Dreading the Day
by music5692
Summary: Sequel to my first story. Popularly known as The Underworld Adventure. Percabeth! And Sheo! Sequel's sequel now in progress.
1. Miracle or Illusion?

Sequel to my other story, Living from Dream to Dream.

* * *

December 27

"Hey Annabeth! Annabeth Chase!" The girl spun around, blond princess curls (as they had once been called) flying wildly. She smiled in recognition of the raven-haired boy not far off and crossed her arms.

"Yes, Percy Jackson?" Annabeth called back as the boy approached. "I'm really busy, you know, so this better be important!"

The mock disapproval in her voice didn't go unnoticed. "Oh, well, if you're busy, then I'll just leave," he answered teasingly, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Though if you don't even have time for your own boyfriend—"

"Boyfriend? I don't remember any boyfriend of mine," Annabeth replied jokingly, only to be caught in Percy's arms. The boy planted a swift kiss on her cheek- in the past months, both demigods had grown more accustomed and more secure in their relationship. Now Percy was not as shy in his affection and she didn't mind who was watching when he showed it.

"That's me!" Percy exclaimed, clutching the protesting girl tighter. "You know, you're awfully silly for someone who's supposed to be so wise."

"And you're awfully stupid- even for a Seaweed Brain," Annabeth snorted, and slipped out of Percy's grasp and entwined her hand with his.

"Ah, well," the boy sighed, "At least I have you here to be smart for me."

"Yes, yes, what would you do without me?" Annabeth answered, though she seemed distracted, her eyes darting around to watch the borders of Camp Half Blood.

"What is it, Wisegirl?" Percy asked, noticing her agitation.

"Nothing. Well, it's just…. Nothing," she explained lamely, and Percy raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

"It's just getting to me, you know? I thought that the monsters would be gone by now, or at least have gone back to rarely attacking Camp. But it's all the time…. It doesn't seem like the war is over at all." Percy nodded in agreement. He knew the feeling all too well. After Sholeh defeated Kronos, the evil Titan Lord who plotted to overthrow Olympus and the gods, the Titan's army had run amok. And the soldiers in this army had been legendary Greek monsters who wanted nothing more than to eat demigods like Percy and Annabeth. Now, without a leader and already in large packs, the beasts attacked Camp maddeningly often, and now with many of them at a time. The demigods were already exhausted from the war and casualties were frequent.

"Right," Percy agreed, as the two walked slowly, though neither knew where they were going or even cared. "And with Chiron making us patrol practically all the time—" He trailed off.

"Yeah," Annabeth said quietly. They sat down against a tree, for it was the only time they had had together in days. The two half bloods were content to now spend it in companionable silence.

Finally, the son of Poseidon spoke. "Where's Sholeh?" he asked. Because of the inordinate amount of time he spent patrolling Camp's borders, Percy hadn't seen Sholeh at all for days. Though it might not be a good idea to find her, he thought. It was now over two months since he, Annabeth, and Sholeh had sat on the beach and the daughter of Hades and Hestia had said she would rescue Leo from the Underworld. Leo, a son of Apollo, had been her best friend and love who died in the war against Kronos. Ever since, Sholeh had been even more prone to fits of rage. Because of her parentage, these bad moods of Sholeh's often ended in an uncontrollable fire and, if you were very unlucky, her dagger pressing against your throat. Sholeh had not forgotten her decision to bring Leo back, but Chiron had forbidden her from leaving Camp until the monster attacks had subsided. Now it was almost January, and with every passing day the girl grew more prone to lashing out at innocent passerby.

"Sleeping," Annabeth mumbled, her face pressed against Percy's chest.

"What? Lucky!"

"She was on patrol constantly for the past day and a half."

"Me too! So have I!"

"Remember that daughter of Apollo, Kitty, who thought Sholeh killed…. You know?" Percy did in fact remember her. After Leo's death, rumors had circulated, especially among Kitty and her friends, that Sholeh had killed Leo. Naturally this was ridiculous, but Kitty had been the closest thing Leo had to a sister, and needed someone to blame.

"Yeah. What about her?"

"She's in the medical cabin, with second degree burns. Chiron thought that Sholeh should rest before she lost her temper again."

"Oh."

"And aren't you supposed to be on patrol, Percy?" Annabeth asked, leaning away from the boy and standing up. Grabbing his hands, she pulled the boy to his feet, though he didn't look too happy about it.

"Maybe," Percy answered evasively.

"Well don't let me stop you. Go!" she shooed him away with a motion of her hand, though Percy stole another kiss before jogging away. A quiet smile on her lips, Annabeth believed that she could still feel the warmth of his skin. Why am I so happy? She asked herself. This isn't logical at all. He's just Percy, but he makes me so…. Happy! Annabeth shrugged. Who needed reasonable explanations when you just couldn't stop smiling?

* * *

A hideous face leered at her suddenly from the darkness. It was the Titan Kronos' true face, not Luke's. He had discarded the demigod's frail body long ago, for his skin of old. Sholeh spun wildly in the fire, her heart twisted tightly by fear, clutching desperately to her dagger. A ripping pain began in her shoulder to ribs, and it burst into agony. Black spots clouded Sholeh's vision as she looked down to see scarlet blood pouring from her body, all too real, and a wickedly glinting scythe retreating once more into the inferno of flame. The girl fell to her knees, a scream torn from her lips, the indescribable pain ending all thought but for one: Make it stop.

She heard the terrible laughter, like metal grating across stone, an unnatural and profoundly disturbing sound. All was lost. She would die, and Kronos would triumph. Here, abandoned, at the end of the world, she was dying. Her will to live extinguished, all passion forgotten, Sholeh's eyes closed in surrender. Memories flashed before her eyes, of her foster parents, her childhood, the first time she met Percy and Annabeth. Sholeh heard the Titan Lord creeping closer, his ragged breathing echoing as if from all directions. Her head unconsciously lowered in shame of how she was about to meet her end and leave the demigods stranded without hope. But Sholeh was just too tired and tortured by pain to move.

This is a coward's death, she thought, and now I'll never go to Elysium. I'll never, ever see him again… Suddenly a memory was imprinted for a brief moment before her eyes: it was Leo lying lifeless, pale, and broken upon the ground. The all too familiar rage and pain swept through her, but it was now stronger than ever before. Never before had Sholeh felt such pure and blinding bloodlust, the desire to kill whoever brought about Leo's death. And it was inexplicably not Aphrodite, but Kronos who Sholeh wanted to destroy.

The girl's eyes snapped open. Involuntarily, she drove her dagger upwards into the Titan's body, and he screamed terribly. Sholeh slammed Kronos against a boulder that had been hidden by the inferno, and twisted the blade deeper into his flesh.

With her free hand, the demigod reached a hand to her wound. Unable to feel the pain, Sholeh wiped the blindingly red blood on the Titan's horrible, contorted face. "This is what you've caused," she snarled, teeth bared like a feral animal, "And this blood belongs here. My blood, and the blood of countless other lives…. And Leo's blood."

Sholeh was blinded suddenly by darkness, and knew that her body was moving without her mind's control. When her vision cleared once more, the Titan lay dead and his scythe was in Sholeh's hands. She instantly vomited at the sight of his mangled body, and dropped the scythe upon the ground. It was consumed in black fire and disappeared.

Sholeh knew what was going to happen now. She had had this nightmare countless times before. The memory of Kronos' murder at her hand haunted Sholeh every night since she had committed it. In the dream, the girl collapsed, body broken and bleeding, her arms twisted beneath her. Sholeh waited for the pain she knew would come; it always came.

Three, she counted down, Two…. One. The girl grimaced in anticipation, but felt nothing. No, I feel something. Just no pain. A cool breeze. The smell of rosin and raspberries. A warm hand upon her shoulder, like the caressing tropical sun.

Sholeh's eyes opened slowly, blinking twice disbelievingly. For right before her was a face with expressive hazel eyes, messy blond hair, and softly smiling lips. The most beautiful person in the world to Sholeh; not for his attractive appearance, but for the warmth and light she found in those eyes, that frame, his words.

"Leo," she whispered, and the boy's arms snaked around her waist, as he clutched Sholeh closer to him. She stared into his eyes, wondering by what miracle or illusion she saw him now.

"Sholeh," he murmured back, the use of her real name sounding intimate. His voice sent shivers down her spine, though she felt as if she had been basking in the sun all day.

"How…?" Sholeh asked, eyes widened in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Never mind. Just…. Quiet. For a moment." Sholeh obliged him, slowly breathing in and out. She kept her eyes wide open, however, fearing that even a blink or sudden movement would end these few moments of perfection. If it were anyone else, the girl would have recoiled from such close contact. But Leo was not just anyone else; with him, her temper, cynicism, and darkness disappeared.

Finally, he spoke again. "Do you know firegirl, it's not that great in Elysium?" said Leo, a smile creeping onto his lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's supposed to be perfect. And it's not." Leo took a deep, shuddering breath, and Sholeh felt the reverberations through her own body. "You aren't there."

"I've missed you so, so much. More than…. Anything." Sholeh spoke quickly and her eyes were locked with his. "I've been so lost without you, Casanova." The seriousness of her words was sharply contrasted by the playful nickname. Leo kissed her, his tongue drifting across her bottom lip, but he pulled back swiftly.

"Not that again," he complained, though his grin betrayed the joy in his heart. To be with Sholeh was worth anything. "But now you have a purpose," Leo continued.

"Yes. But Chiron isn't letting me leave." Both demigods knew exactly what the other was talking about.

"You'll find a way. I know you will," Leo returned, pushing golden hair out of his face. Sholeh closed her eyes in contentment, sighed, and leaned forward to nestle herself tighter within the boy's arms; but her body rolled onto a cold, hard stone floor. Her hands flailed wildly trying to find Leo once more, to grasp his shirt, though she was too afraid to look for what she knew was missing. Finally, Sholeh opened her eyes, only to be wounded by the painful absence around her. Leo was gone.

"I'll be waiting for you, firegirl," his voice echoed within her mind, but Sholeh only lay back upon the floor, a single tear on her face, and awaited consuming darkness her once more.

* * *

"Sholeh… Sholeh… SHOLEH!" The voice came to her as though underwater; it was garbled, and the girl barely recognized her own name. Instinctively though, she swung angrily at the person who dared to disturb her sleep, and smiled crookedly when she heard a loud thump followed by, "OW!"

"What the Hades, Sholeh? You need to get up. There's a band of skeletons attacking just outside the North Woods and…?" Percy was interrupted as the girl sat bolt upright in bed.

"Gods damn it," she muttered furiously, before throwing off the covers to pull herself out of bed. Sholeh hadn't had the time to change before falling asleep, dead tired as she was, and out of paranoia, she always slept with her dagger at her side. Without a second look, the girl strode to the door and turned to look at Percy, who was staring at her with a look of concern.

"What?" Sholeh asked irritably. "Don't just stand there like a useless lump. Let's go." Percy followed the girl obediently as she sprinted toward the site of the attack.

Annabeth watched the battle raging from a few hundred feet away. It was killing her not to join in and help her friends, but Chiron had ordered her to hang back and watch invisibly. The centaur had a suspicion that the monsters might just be creating a diversion.

Suddenly, a girl and a boy sprinted into the clearing. Annabeth blinked once. That was Percy, but who was the girl? Then she nodded her head in recognition. Of course that was Sholeh. Even after weeks, the girl was often taken off guard by her friend's appearance. Annabeth had met Sholeh when the daughter of Hades and Hestia had golden hair, grinned often, and wore the Camp Half Blood clothing. Now, a pointed face was almost engulfed by a nimbus of impossibly black hair, and since Leo had been killed, she smiled rarely. Sholeh's resemblance to her half brother, Nico, was much more pronounced because of the lines spreading under her eyes and the darkness that emanated from within them. The demigod wore a black jacket with tiny red buttons that framed a small waist and bright scarlet jeans. On her feet were a pair of mismatched, knee high, black converse. Annabeth didn't mind this new appearance, but it did take some getting used to. Well actually, Annabeth pondered, I do mind how sad she is all the time. Chiron should just let her go try save Leo. She'll never rest until then. A memory sprang to Annabeth's mind of how Nico's appearance had also changed drastically after his sister Bianca's death. Why are the children of Hades, lord of the dead, so profoundly affected by death? Annabeth didn't know.

The daughter of Athena continued to watch from afar as the demigods fought ferociously. When Sholeh joined in the battle, Annabeth could easily see the relief on the others' faces. Sholeh may be a loose cannon, but she is priceless in battle, the girl admitted. One by one, the skeletons were driven back or destroyed by Sholeh's fire. Then suddenly, all the half bloods but Percy and Annabeth backed away in terror. Annabeth's heart sunk in pain and fear as she watched a horribly familiar figure emerge from the dark trees.

* * *

Cliffhanger! Sorry 'bout that. Can you guess who the 'horribly familiar figure' is? I'll give a cookie to anyone who can guess it!


	2. Glimpses

Percy stared, his face turning pale first from worry, then anger, as the dark figure stepped forward into the light. Poseidon's son gritted his teeth in a snarl and unsheathed Riptide, for before him stood Luke Castellan, the traitor who had betrayed the gods, his friends, and Annabeth. However, this was not the Luke that Percy remembered from the days before the son of Hermes double-crossed them. That Luke had had athletic good looks, which were not at all marred by the scar on his face.

Now, Castellan's skin was sallow, there were purple shadows beneath his eyes, and his hair was lank and greasy. The scar on his face was more noticeable than ever, though his body was covered in new wounds, some of which were still bleeding. Percy also noticed that Luke stood just outside the Camp borders, leaning occasionally forward, as on an invisible wall. He can't come in, thought Percy, Good.

Percy wanted nothing more than to make Luke feel the pain he and the demigods had felt; the pain that Annabeth and Thalia especially had felt. Advancing with Riptide in his hand and fury in his heart, Percy said, his voice dangerously cold, "How dare you come here."

"Please," Luke pleaded, his hands up in symbol of surrender and helplessness, "I'm not armed."

"So?" Percy asked maliciously, taking further steps toward the terrified son of Hermes. He was stopped, however, when Sholeh grabbed his arm. Turning sharply around, he questioned the girl. "Let me go, Sholeh. He caused so much destruction and death."

"Just wait, Percy," she replied, her face showing no emotion. "It was Kronos who killed without giving his victims a chance."

"He doesn't deserve a chance!" Percy yelled suddenly. He ripped his arm out of Sholeh's hand and stared at the girl with rage in his eyes. Sholeh had never seen the son of Poseidon so angry. A pool of water gathered on the ground beneath Percy but evaporated in a cloud of steam when Sholeh stuck the tip of her foot into it. Looking back up, Sholeh saw Percy taking steps away from her, angry and disgusted.

"He doesn't deserve a chance," the boy repeated. "He deserves to die." At this, Luke winced. Seeing this, Percy continued. "That's right. I wish you were dead. And so does everyone else."

"Percy!" Annabeth shrieked. No one had noticed her approach. Luke looked up at the noise and stared at the daughter of Athena with a strange emotion in his eyes.

Percy muttered, "Stay back, Annabeth."

"Percy, we should get Chiron. I think he really does needs help," Annabeth said softly, unable to say Luke's name.

"Help? He's got enough of that from the last of Kronos' army—We should get rid of this trash. I'm sure Chiron will appreciate it."

"Please, just hear what I have to say," Luke begged. "The monsters…. They are going to kill me," he gasped, and Sholeh believed she could see a tear hanging on one of Luke's eyelashes.

"Why do you think anyone cares?" sneered Percy.

Luke looked towards Sholeh, his eyes a plea for mercy. "I helped you out once, and I'm not about to do it again," the girl stated coldly. "Percy's right- no one really cares, Castellan."

"I know what I did, and that you hate me for it," Luke returned, his voice rising higher with desperation. "But tell me truthfully, didn't you ever think of doing the same? You know that you did—"

"Shut up, traitor," Sholeh cut him off, and stared pensively at the sharp tip of her dagger, as though disinterested in the conversation. "Of course I thought about it. But I didn't do it. You made the wrong choice, and now you come crawling back to us for help. You're pathetic." Luke felt his last hope slipping away.

Annabeth looked at her friends, and at the boy who had once been like an older brother to her. So much had changed since their days of carefree adventuring. And now her old life and new life were clashing together, with Annabeth stuck in the middle. A tear trickled slowly down her cheek.

"Please," the demigod entreated again. "They are going to kill me. They think I betrayed Kronos—"

Percy laughed, a sharp and mocking sound. "No, you didn't betray Kronos. You betrayed your own friends, your family."

"And how do we know that this isn't some plot to let you in, so you can bring monsters to kill us?" Sholeh asked.

Luke knew in that moment, that he was a dead man. "You have to trust me," he said quietly. Percy laughed again and sheathed his sword.

"Have mercy! I'm sorry!" Luke screamed. And then, "ANNABETH!" The girl had turned away from the scene, but now slowly looked back at the traitor. Tears streamed down her face as Annabeth's eyes darted from Luke to Percy, then to Luke again. Slowly, she put her hand in Percy's and the two began to walk away.

"NO! Please, please!" the boy pounded at the invisible barrier, sobbing. Sholeh walked closer and tipped her head slightly to the right, as if observing some rare animal in a zoo. Unlike Annabeth, she was completely unaffected by the boy. Luke collapsed on the ground, now silent in acquiescence. Sholeh raised an eyebrow thoughtfully before turning on her heel and walking away.

Hours later, Percy and Annabeth were sitting in uncomfortable silence on Fireworks Beach. The daughter of Athena had stopped crying, though her eyes were still red. Sholeh had long ago wandered off to look for Nico; she hadn't seen her half brother in over a week. Strangely enough, the monster attacks had suddenly stopped on Camp's borders, and Percy believed that Sholeh would do something drastic if kept there much longer. And so Percy and Annabeth were left alone together, both wishing that the other would begin the conversation.

Finally, Percy spoke. "Annabeth," he began uneasily. "I thought that you didn't love him."

The girl turned her tear-stained face to his. "I don't," she protested in a hiccupping voice.

"Then why in Hades name do you still care?" Percy's voice broke. He couldn't believe that Annabeth could still have any pity for the traitor.

"Because he was my friend, Percy!" Annabeth replied, her voice getting louder. The boy's face reddened at this.

"Oh, that's a great friend—" he began sarcastically.

"He was the closest thing I had to a brother! Luke was there for me when I ran away from home. I can't just forget that! And we just signed his death sentence," Annabeth finished, now yelling.

"Come on, Annabeth, don't tell me you believed that crap! He is leading those monsters, I would bet my last drachma on it. If we let him in, the demigods in Camp will be facing Kronos' remaining army…" he paused, then angered once more by Annabeth's tear-filled eyes, added, "I thought you of all people were smart enough to see that."

"How could you…?" Annabeth screamed, getting up and backing away.

"Look, I'm sorry, Wisegirl. I'm sorry! But even if Luke was telling the truth, which he's not, would Chiron ever let him into Camp? No!" Percy was right about that, Annabeth knew. When the centaur heard that Luke had returned seeking protection, he was furious and forbade anyone from speaking to him, making contact of any sort, or bringing him into Camp Half Blood. Still, the daughter of Athena resented Percy's stubbornness.

"We could have tried! But no, you're so set in your ways," Annabeth shot back. She turned to walk off the beach, leaving a confused an angry Percy on the sand. Without looking back, the girl called out.

"I thought that you would have comforted me, Percy."

"Nico!" Sholeh called upon entering Hades cabin. She had searched all over Camp for her half brother and was now returning to their shared home. She doubted that Nico would be there, considering that he hadn't slept there in a week, but Sholeh saw him lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. "There you are," she said grumpily. Of course he would be here after I looked everywhere else.

"Hullo," Nico replied dully. "Close the door, will you?" Sholeh kicked the door closed and threw her dagger and tight black jacket down on the bed, revealing a tee shirt for her favorite death metal band. She walked into the bathroom, started the water, and then returned to plop down on her bed.

Staring, Sholeh spoke quietly to her sibling. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." Nico's hair covered his eyes and most of his face; Sholeh was unable to read the emotion there, but knew he was lying.

"I've been upset often enough, Nico. Lately, more than usual."

At this Nico scoffed. "No kidding. Burning down whatever- whoever- is in your way."

"Well, sorry!" Sholeh replied irritably. Then shaking her head, she continued in a calmer tone. "What I mean is, I know when people are upset from firsthand experience. And there's something wrong."

Nico turned to look at his half sister, and in doing so, caught sight of someone walking quickly past the window. Sholeh must have noticed the longing in his eyes, because she turned around to catch a glimpse of Annabeth walking past. After a moment's silence, Sholeh guessed it.

"Oh, Nico," she sighed. "Annabeth?" The boy just nodded miserably. "How long have you liked her?"

"… Since I came back two summers ago with Percy."

"That's got to be tough when Percy's around," Sholeh replied, feeling genuinely sorry for her half brother. She knew firsthand the effects that love could have on someone. Guilt suddenly flooded her when realizing that she hadn't noticed all this time. But then again, Nico probably had wanted it that way.

"Tell me about it." The two siblings sat in silence for a while after that, not knowing what to say to the other, but happy that the other was there.

"Sholeh!" Percy yelled, bursting into Hades cabin. Sholeh looked blankly up at him from lying on her bed. "Can you believe this? First Luke the traitor and obvious bad guy, though no one seems to get it, shows up! Now, Annabeth is all angry with me for, I dunno, being insensitive or something! Oh, hey Nico," he added as an afterthought, before turning back to Sholeh.

Nico grunted noncommittally, then a look of realization crossed his face. "Wait, you and Annabeth had a fight?" he asked, unable to conceal the note of eagerness in his voice.

"Yeah," replied Percy, gnashing his teeth together.

"Oh, too bad, man, too bad."

"Then why are you smiling?" Despite being in such a foul mood, Percy wasn't distracted enough to notice the silly grin on Nico's face.

"Uh… Sholeh just told me this hilarious joke. Right, Sholeh?" he replied, turning to his half sister desperately.

"A joke? Oh, oh right… Um, it's really funny," said Sholeh quickly. "Here it goes: What do flies wear on their feet?" Percy just stared impassively. "Shoos! Get it? Y'know, like shoo fly… and it sounds the same as 'shoe'… or, or something?" she finished lamely.

"That wasn't funny at all," stated Percy. Nico giggled nervously on the other side of the room.

"At least someone thinks I'm funny," grumbled Sholeh.

"Whatever, you guys are no help at all," whined Percy.

"Then LEAVE! No one's asking you to stay," the girl shot back, her temper flaring up again. "And by the way, you should be a little more understanding of Annabeth. Did you even think about how she feels? Obviously not."

"Yes, I did! But I thought…. I thought she loved me."

"Open your eyes, Percy. Is Annabeth leaving you for Luke? No. So suck it up!" Sholeh finished before storming out of the cabin.

Percy was left staring at Nico, who just shrugged. "What the Hades…?" the son of Poseidon asked.


	3. Pinochle is Overrated

Why, hello there. Chapter 3! In which Sholeh gets angry at yet another god and crushes two people in argument. She should be on a debate team, or something.

* * *

"Chiron!" Sholeh yelled, bursting through the door of the Big House. Seeing only Mr. D at the pinochle table wearing one of his horrible leopard jumpsuits, Sholeh stomped across the floor, calling the centaur's name in hopes that he might be in one of the surrounding rooms.

"Stop that racket, you little punk," commanded the camp director, Mr. D, in a whiny voice. Every camper hated Mr. D, and the feeling was mutual. He was actually the god Dionysus and Zeus had ordered him to run Camp Half Blood as a punishment. Dionysus loathed every minute of it.

"Where's Chiron?" Sholeh asked bluntly. She didn't have the patience to deal with Mr. D now.

"Why should I tell you?" Mr. D asked, his eyes narrowing. Sholeh glared back at him, her arms crossed and head high as a sign of defiance. "What do you want?"

"I want to ask him a question," replied Sholeh with forced civility. She shouldn't be here arguing with some fat, grumpy, god of wine. She should be on her way to the Underworld already, or at least convincing Chiron that he needed to let her go.

"Oh, this is about that stupid son of Apollo… what's-his-face… Lloyd."

"It's Leo," she replied through clenched teeth. Sholeh practically wanted to scream from frustration. Or better yet, set that idiotic pinochle table on fire.

"Whatever."

"Just tell me where Chiron is," said Sholeh, her voice rising in volume.

"He has better things to do than answer pathetic questions about your precious Leonardo." Mr. D lazily turned a page in his wine magazine before continuing, "So just go away."

Suddenly, the patch of carpet underneath Dionysus burst into flame. The god yelped and crawled onto the table before him, glaring at Sholeh viciously. "It's Leo!" the girl yelled, losing control of her temper at last. "Tell me where Chiron is now."

"He's teaching archery," Mr. D finally replied. Sholeh turned and walked swiftly out of the Big House. "Wait! This rug is quite expensive, you know! Put that fire out!"

"To be honest, Mr. D, I don't give a damn," Sholeh called back, leaving an irate Dionysus crouched on his pinochle board.

"Yes, Sholeh?" asked Chiron tiredly when the girl ran up to him. The younger children the centaur had been teaching backed away warily. They knew about this girl; she would set you on fire soon as look at you. Or at least that was what they had heard.

"I need to talk to you, Chiron," Sholeh said. There was no doubt or hesitation in her voice; it was a command.

"Alright," the centaur replied, laying down his bow and arrow. He and Sholeh walked a little distance from the children so they would not be overheard. Chiron had been interrogated, pleaded with, yelled at, and ordered around by this girl in the past months. Every so often she would approach him once more with the same argument, and he would give her the same answer: No, it was just too dangerous. In all his years of teaching demigods, the centaur hadn't once encountered a student so stubborn.

"Look, the monster attacks have practically stopped," explained Sholeh, trying to keep her cool. It wouldn't do her, or Leo for that matter, any good if she got into a fight with Chiron. "And I'm not asking much, just to borrow the van. I can take care of myself—"

"Yes, I know that, Sholeh," the centaur cut her off. His patience with this girl was wearing thin. "But the monsters will, in all probability, keep attacking. You have an extremely strong scent because you are the daughter of two Olympians."

"I don't care," Sholeh snapped, forgetting her decision to stay calm. "I can fight them, and kill them."

"Don't you want to wait until spring, Sholeh?" asked the centaur, trying a different tactic. "It will be easier to travel when the weather is warmer."

"That's when Persephone is with Demeter though. No, isn't my dad supposed to be more generous while she's still around?"

"I'm not sure that Lady Persephone would be overjoyed to see her husband's illegitimate child."

"Oh. Right. Well, I think that I'll just take my chances then."

The centaur sighed resignedly. Sholeh stared straight into his eyes, her figure straight and angular. This girl would never give up. And Chiron got the feeling that if he didn't let her go on this crazy mission of hers soon, Sholeh would do something far more dangerous. She could already barely contain the godly power and anger inside of her.

"In a week," he finally replied, massaging his temples. "You and two others- only two- can leave in the van. Until then, you need to stay here, train hard, and control your temper." But the centaur couldn't say any more than that, for a huge grin had broken on Sholeh's face. She laughed suddenly, her head back and eyes joyful.

"Thank you, Chiron," Sholeh said after she regained control and assumed a more serious tone. "I won't forget this." And without a word more, Sholeh sprinted off to tell Percy, Annabeth, Nico, and anyone else who would listen.

* * *

Percy attacked a frightened son of Apollo with a vicious lunge. The son of Poseidon had been training for the past few hours, taking out all his frustration by practicing his sword fighting. Already the best swordsman in the camp, Percy was an even more dangerous opponent when angry, and fighting with Annabeth had made him livid. The younger boy dropped his sword on the ground and backed away with hands up.

"You win, man," the boy replied with big fearful eyes, before running away. Percy groaned. Now he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts.

Fortunately for him, Sholeh ran up to him at that very moment. "Percy!" she yelled, a smile so wide it was almost comical. "Can we talk somewhere?"

"Yeah," he answered, suspicious of Sholeh's apparent glee. It had been months since she had been this happy. "Come to Cabin Three."

"OK," she replied, running ahead. "Come on!" she called back to Percy, who walked slowly and rolled his eyes at her eagerness.

Once inside, Percy sat down on his bed, exhausted from sword practice. Sholeh was too jittery to sit down, and instead picked things off Percy's desk: a couple drachmas, a Camp Half Blood tee shirt, a bag of blue cookies, a book about Greek mythology, and finally a picture of Annabeth. When Sholeh began to examine the last object, however, Percy grabbed it away from her and put it on the dresser next to his bed.

"What?" snapped Percy grumpily.

Unable to keep this a secret any longer, Sholeh blurted out, "Chiron's letting me take the van and go to the Underworld. Next week." Percy only frowned.

"Sholeh… I still don't think this is a good idea," he admitted after a pause.

"Why the Hades not?" asked Sholeh angrily. She couldn't believe Percy couldn't understand, or at least pretend to.

"Because that's just the natural order of things, y'know? People die. We're only mortal. And I think you need to move on." Percy winced, waiting for Sholeh to explode. He knew that saying this would make her far from happy.

"Move on?" Sholeh asked incredulously, sparks of fire beginning to play and weave through her black hair. "Why do people keep telling me that? Move on, Sholeh! What the Hades does that even mean?" Her voice was far louder than speaking volume now, though not quite a scream.

"Move on to what, exactly? Someone else? And forget Leo? Act like his death didn't kill me inside? There is nothing for me to move on to." Sholeh's eyes glinted with tears now. Percy hadn't been expecting this at all; he was used to the Sholeh with steely stubbornness, eyes full of darkness, and a dangerous temper. Before him was Sholeh, angry but with another facet of emotion: desperation and loneliness.

Percy stuttered, "W-well, I'm sorry, Sholeh. You know I am. He was my friend too—" At this Sholeh scoffed.

"But you just can't save him."

"Watch me."

"Well, OK. Assuming that by some miracle, you do save Leo, what then?" Percy began to get angry. She could be so blind sometimes, and refused to listen to any logic other than her own visceral determination. "You don't even know things could go back to the way they were."

"What do you mean?" Sholeh wanted to make Percy understand; she would never ever give up on Leo.

"Well, he's a son of Apollo. Not to stereotype anyone, but they're flighty, you know that. Like their father. And…" Percy hesitated, not wanting to tell Sholeh this, but knowing that he had to. "You weren't his first girlfriend, Sholeh. Not by a long shot. He would be seventeen; you're sixteen- that's so young. If you do save him, will he still love you?"

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't been terrified that he would return without a single feeling for me?" Sholeh yelled, standing up, her fists clenched and hair glowing blue as fire played along its strands. "Even if that does happen, I would never accept his death. Because," she continued, her voice dropping slightly, "he died because of me."

"What are you talking about?" Percy asked, confused. "You don't have to blame yourself for his death; there was nothing anyone could do to save him—"

"No," Sholeh whispered, her eyes flashing a dark navy blue. She had never told anyone this, and didn't want to. The guilt haunted her every moment, and Sholeh couldn't imagine what anyone would think of her now. An innocent boy had died because of her. "Aphrodite wanted to punish me. And so she sent Cupid to guide his killer's arrow. It's all my fault. And it wasn't the natural 'order of things' like you said, because he shouldn't have died."

Percy didn't know what to say. He sat on the bed, his mouth open slightly in astonishment. Sholeh, suddenly terribly exhausted, fell onto the bed next to Percy. He turned to the girl sitting beside him, and finally said, "I didn't know." Sholeh turned her head towards Percy's, staring into his ocean eyes, and nodded slowly. Percy suddenly realized how close their faces were, and gulped noisily. He stared at her lips pressed into a pout, and then at her dark blue eyes, and was suddenly filled with a crazy desire... Sholeh didn't notice their close proximity, and stood up once more.

"What would you do if Annabeth died?" she asked Percy, knowing that she had already won the argument.

Percy stared at his feet and sighed softly. "I would bring her back," he spoke finally. The boy would never again question Sholeh's decision. She turned to leave, though her previous triumph was replaced by a growing sense of dread. "Wait, Sholeh," he called. The girl turned around, eyebrows raised in questioning. "We're still coming with you."

"Thanks, Percy," said Sholeh with a soft smile. "Now before you get packing," she continued in a playful tone. "Go apologize to Annabeth."

"That's just the thing- I don't really know how to."

"Say you're sorry for overreacting, but that you just couldn't bear the thought of her being in love with Luke," replied Sholeh as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Honestly," she finished with an exasperated sigh and walked out of the cabin.

* * *

Hooray! Even Chiron gets sick of constant pestering. Percy was kind of... strange in this chapter, I just realized.

Next chapter will be longer- I just want to post as many chapters as possible before school starts.


	4. Grand Theft Auto

Hello there! I know that I promised this chapter earlier- sorry! Actually, the only reason that you're getting it today even is because I had some major help from CloudyAlore. So thank you billions, Faye! And SO sorry that I'm posting this a half hour late! I started writing at nine my time and only just got finished

* * *

The next six days passed by in a blur for Sholeh. She spent her time alternately packing for the journey, training to the point of collapse, and patrolling the North Woods alone. Annabeth and Percy ended their argument in less than a day; Sholeh believed that neither could bear to be away from each other for longer, though they wouldn't admit it.

Sholeh's moods swung from extremes at the most unpredictable moments. Once, she comforted a young unclaimed demigod who had begun crying at sword practice. Sholeh took the boy, who was only eight years old, to the bathroom, cleaned the dirt off his face, and told him that swordplay just took practice; it didn't mean anything that he was the worst in the class. He only sobbed harder, until Sholeh told him that maybe his father wasn't a swordsman, anyway, and he would be claimed soon.

"In fact," she reassured the boy whose name she discovered later to be Aaron, "one of my very best friends is worse with a sword than you are." The boy protested that it wasn't possible for anyone to be worse. "Oh yes," Sholeh continued seriously, crouching down to Aaron's level. "His father is Apollo though, so he's an amazing archer and musician."

"Who is he?" the little boy asked. Maybe he could see himself in the description, or maybe he was just curious. Either way, Sholeh's words calmed Aaron down, and she noticed that the tears had stopped falling.

"His name is Leo," said Sholeh wistfully. "You'll find something that you're good at," she finished, ruffling the boy's blond hair and turning to leave.

"Wait! Can I meet him? I want to see if I'm really better at sword fighting than he is." The boy's voice was eager. Sholeh couldn't bear to turn around, but answered.

"Well, he's not here right now," she explained slowly. "But I'm going to go find him very soon, so as soon as Leo gets back, I'll tell him to find you, and you two can fight. I bet you'll win." She walked out the door of the bathrooms, unable to stand the sadness in her heart, but leaving a very happy boy to run back to class with new determination.

* * *

Just two hours after that, Sholeh attacked the Ares cabin as they walked by. Most of the War God's sons only got off just with singed eyebrows, but Clarisse and two of her siblings were sent to the Medical Cabin with nasty burns. Sholeh herself admitted that the attack was unprovoked; "I just wanted to," she told Chiron later on. She had to wash dishes for the next four days.

Finally, the night before she, Percy, and Annabeth were going to leave, all three were called to the Big House. Inside sat Dionysus and an anxious looking Chiron. Sholeh looked angry, but smirked when she saw burn marks on the carpet and pinochle table.

"Well, well, well. Well. So you decided to show up, punk?" Mr. D asked, finished his question with a loud yawn.

"What is it, sir?" Annabeth asked, stopping Sholeh from answering. The daughter of Athena knew that it would not do to anger Mr. D or Chiron right before they were about to leave.

"Chiron," prompted Mr. D. The centaur sighed wearily and began to explain.

"Well, I really do regret to inform you that you three cannot leave for the Underworld," he said quickly, as if trying to get it over with as soon as possible.

There was a pause and then, "WHAT?" Sholeh screamed. Instantaneously, the fire in the hearth went out of control, filling the entire fireplace, and sending a wave of heat through the room. The flames began to lick the walls, and Chiron brayed.

"Well, you have in the past days destroyed Camp property," the centaur motioned to the burned carpet, "and attacked Campers. This behavior certainly does not merit a quest," he yelled above the fire's roar. Looking again at Sholeh, he saw the pain and despair reflected in her eyes- or was it just the flames? "I'm sorry, child," he added.

"You're lucky I don't feed you to the Furies," Dionysus added viciously. "You think just because old Corpse Breath is your dad, that you can get away with anything, but—"

Sholeh turned and walked silently out of the Big House, barely able to see because of the tears, which so rebelliously filled her eyes. Percy and Annabeth followed, but only after shooting angry glares at Chiron, as if to say, 'Mr. D, I can understand, but you?' They sat down on either side of their friend after finding her on the steps to Hades cabin.

Sholeh's jaw and fists were clenched tightly, and her head throbbed. "Gods curse it," she muttered, wiping away the tears. Her sadness was suddenly swept away by rage. "HOW DARE THEY?" she yelled, startling her two friends. Percy jumped at the sound and fell painfully down a step. A fissure cracked open in the ground in front of Hades cabin, and flames burst from it.

"It's going to be OK, Sholeh," soothed Annabeth, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. The daughter of Hades and Hestia made a motion with her hand, and the crack disappeared, leaving only a line of dirt to show where the earth had ripped apart. Cradling her head in her hands, Sholeh was a picture so unlike what they were used to. Now she was not the Titan-Slayer, daughter of the Lord of the Dead and Lady of Flames, but just a lost sixteen-year-old girl.

"Well, that's mildly annoying," said Percy in a bright tone. "Nothing to cry about, though."

Sholeh looked up at him, darkness shining from her eyes. "First of all, I'm not crying." Percy scoffed at this, and Sholeh glared more intensely. He immediately turned the disbelieving laugh into a cough. "Second, what the Hades are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Sholeh," said Percy. "Since when have you ever followed rules? We need the van to get to L.A…" he trailed off.

"But not Chiron or Mr. D," Sholeh finished, her lips twisting into a half smile. "What about the keys, though?" Dionysus always keeps them near him." Once, a camper had tried to take the van for a little joy ride. Tried, because he didn't even make it out of the Big House with the keys. At least he looked good as a porpoise.

Luckily, at that moment, Travis and Connor Stoll walked past, whispering to each other. Percy didn't hear exactly what they were saying, but could've sworn that he heard Connor ask his brother, "When do you think they'll notice that the shampoo turns their hair green?" He didn't want to know the rest.

"Travis! Connor!" Sholeh called, motioning for them to come over.

"Yeah?" they asked in unison.

"Has anyone ever caught you two stealing?" she asked casually.

"Once," began Travis.

"When we were about five," continued Connor.

"But other than that, we're undefeated," his brother finished. "We stole Chiron's bow right off his back, once." The two twins puffed out their chests proudly, eyes sparkling in memory of the heist.

"Good," said Annabeth. Percy had never seen his girlfriend look so mischievous before, and had to admit that he too was thrilled by their secret plan. "We have a job for you two."

* * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" hissed Sholeh. It was now a little past one in the morning, and all of Camp Half Blood was silent as the grave. Except of course, for the three demigods leaning up against the van, which was parked just a hundred feet from Thalia's pine tree. Sholeh, Percy and Annabeth had been crouched there for over half an hour, waiting for Travis and Connor Stoll to return with the keys. The two sons of Hermes had agreed to help; apparently they believed it would be a true test for their thievery to steal keys right off a sleeping Dionysus. Now, their three friends were beginning to get worried. And to make matters worse, for the past fifteen minutes, Sholeh had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching them from the trees. Every time she caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye and turned to check who was there, though, the figure vanished.

"Of course it is," Percy snapped. Sholeh was the only one who could see in this complete darkness; clouds hid the moon and stars, so he and Annabeth could barely see anything five inches away.

"Well, where are they then?" retorted Sholeh, with equal venom. If Travis and Connor got caught, it would be all her fault. "What if Mr. D…?"

Suddenly, a voice came from right behind her. "Mr. D doesn't even know what hit him," the voice smirked. Instinctively, Sholeh grabbed the person by the neck and threw them to the ground. Travis Stoll managed to choke out, "It's me, you lunatic!"

"What the Hades?" he whispered angrily, massaging his neck once Sholeh released him.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I thought you were… I don't know. But anyway," Sholeh continued, shaking slightly from the adrenalin rush, "Did you get them?"

"Of course," scoffed Connor arrogantly. He tossed Sholeh the keys, which she caught, appreciating the feel of the cool metal on her callused palm. "Had to roll Mr. D over though; he slept with the keys underneath him."

"And his pajamas," interrupted Travis.

"Are definitely not something you would ever want to see."

"Thanks a lot, guys," said Sholeh gratefully. Finally, finally, she was leaving. I'm coming, love, she thought, the meaning of the words sending a shiver down her spine. Sholeh felt electrified, ready to go and prepared for anything.

"Let's hit the road," she said impatiently, opening the door to the front seat, throwing her duffel bag in and jumping in herself. Percy and Annabeth did the same, but sat in the back seat, seeing as Sholeh was the best driver of the group. Annabeth had a tendency to be too cautious, whereas Percy was completely reckless behind the wheel.

Travis and Connor cautiously approached her window, which Sholeh rolled down so that she could hear them. "What will you do if you can't save Leo?" one of the twins asked; Sholeh couldn't tell which one it was.

"I will save him," she said, her voice strong as steel but at the same time, crackling like fire. There was no doubt in Sholeh's mind. She knew only that she was finally doing something, that she would finally be able to end the pain of the last few months. Quests were what Sholeh, Percy and Annabeth did best, and they had the most powerful reason of all to succeed on this one.

"OK, but what if you can't…?" Travis asked again.

"Look," Sholeh said, her temper rising once more, "When we get back to Camp, there will be four of us." She turned the key, starting the engine.

Travis looked like he was about to argue, but Connor cut his brother off. "Good luck," he said simply, and Sholeh nodded before driving the van across the hundred feet of grass, and into the wide, unprotected world.

The slightest warm-colored hints of dawn began to streak the sky. Sholeh drove the van looking straight ahead, the radio playing softly. Percy was asleep, and so was Annabeth, her head in her boyfriend's lap. The three demigods had been driving for hours, but we were now on some deserted road in the middle of nowhere. At least they hadn't been attacked by anything yet.

There were no cops, no cities. And so Sholeh sped now, over one hundred miles per hour, and she got a strange joy from seeing the speedometer tick higher and higher. It would get her to Leo sooner. As Sholeh continued to accelerate, so did her thoughts. Her mind suddenly thought of the first night she had been in the Apollo cabin, and how sleeping against Leo's warm body had made her feel so unreasonably safe and happy, as if only the two of them were invincible, more powerful than the gods themselves. She envied Annabeth for being able to sleep beside her love in the backseat, but it was not the rush of rage and resentment that she would once have felt. It was a simple, plain kind of jealousy.

Suddenly the van jerked over a pothole and Annabeth woke, as did Percy. "How are you doing up there, Sholeh?" Annabeth called sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"I feel like shit." It was true; Sholeh had been driving for hours without sleep, and was now hungry and tired.

"Pull over, and I'll drive." Percy offered.

Sholeh thought about it for a while. I can risk all three of our lives by letting Percy drive like a bat out of Hades or I can be selfish and get some sleep.

"Fine. One second." Sholeh pulled to the side of the road and staggered clumsily out of the van. Percy helped her into the backseat, and then gently shut the door. Sholeh had to admit, the gesture was a particularly kind one when she considered how happy he must have been sleeping beside Annabeth. The daughter of Athena leaned on Sholeh's shoulder, and she in turn leaned awkwardly, shyly against the crown of Annabeth's head; Sholeh had rarely been so close to another person, excepting Leo of course.

Sholeh was suddenly jolted awake, and daylight was streaming through the windows. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice scratchy from just waking up. "How long have I been asleep?"

* * *

Sorry about the cliffie, guys. And sadly enough, I'm not ending the chapter here to increase suspense, or anything, I just have the vaguest idea about what to write next. But I also thought this chapter was long enough, and I really wanted to post it.


	5. Keeping Up With the Hadevians

Sholeh looked about the van, seeing Percy asleep in the front and Annabeth stretched across the back. It was only then that she realized she was sitting on the floor. "Seat hogger," she addressed the sleeping Annabeth, annoyed and sore. Sholeh kicked open the door and stepped outside, seeing that they were parked in the lot of a small diner. Judging by the sun, it looked to be around midday. Sholeh sighed and grabbed fifteen dollars in mortal money, closed the van door carefully so as not to wake her friends, and walked over to the store.

Inside, it was cozily decorated and seemed not to have been remodeled since the 1960's. Sholeh walked up to the register to order, and received more than a few quizzical looks from the employee. "You don't look like you're from around here," the woman said, staring at Sholeh's distinct clothing and huge silver and ruby bracelet. Indeed, Sholeh realized that this was farm country and most of the people wore work clothes.

"I'm not," she said bluntly. Sholeh looked away, trying to end the conversation and stared at a man sitting in the back with a camera pointed towards her and muttering into a microphone.

"So where are you headed?" the employee asked her conversationally.

Sholeh glared and replied, "L.A."

"Really? I've got a cousin lives there," the woman answered happily. Sholeh glared some more, hoping that she would take the hint. Unfortunately, she did not, but garrulously continued. "Where are you going in L.A.?"

Sholeh stared at the woman for a moment, then replied, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I've heard some pretty strange things in my day. There was this one time—"

Luckily, at that moment, Sholeh's food was delivered, and the girl muttered finally, before starting to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the man with the camera was leaving also. Straining her ears, she listened to what he was muttering. Sholeh heard, "And this is where you heard it first folks, on Aphrodite TV…. The exclusive gossip, entertainment news, and home of the hottest reality show…"

Suddenly it clicked in her brain. The reality show was her. The gods were using her for entertainment. Last night when they were stealing the car, Sholeh believed that she was being watched. And she had been- by all of Olympus as the latest TV craze. The all too familiar rage boiled up inside her, melting all thought to fill the crucible of her emotions. Her eyes narrowed and fists tightened, anticipating a fight. She wouldn't let anyone use her that way.

Sholeh walked until she was halfway to the van, then turned suddenly, and pulled out her dagger in one swift movement. The man jumped backwards, trying to keep his camera steady, but she was much too fast. Sholeh pressed the razor sharp tip of the blade into his chest, tearing the cloth and nicking his skin. A drop of golden ichor formed, staining her dagger. So he's a minor god, thought Sholeh. This should be fun. She stared into his eyes, which were panicked and rolled slightly, like a wild animal's. A bead of sweat dripped down his face.

"Are you filming me for a reality show?" she asked in a low growl. The man stuttered a 'yes' and raised the camera a little to get a shot of Sholeh's furious expression.

"Hello, gods and goddesses of Olympus," Sholeh said. "Remember when I destroyed Kronos? You praised me for loyalty to you. But guess what I never told you?" She knew that she was being reckless and much too daring. Zeus wouldn't like this one bit. But Sholeh didn't care. The gods had used her, as a tool for their own advancement and petty disagreements, to save the world, and now as unconsenting entertainment. That's all she was to them; a pawn. But she would go to Hades before letting them use her as one.

"I don't care. I killed Kronos because his army murdered Leo Eliot, son of Apollo. That's the only reason why. Hope this makes prime time." Sholeh pushed the camera man to the ground and he scurried away. She waited for the earth to swallow her up, or lightning strike her down, or tidal waves consume her. But nothing happened. Sholeh returned, at first cautiously, then more relaxed, to the van.

She climbed inside and saw that Annabeth had moved to the front seat to sit beside Percy. The two demigods looked at Sholeh, and she knew that they had seen her fight. But they said nothing, just nodded. Percy pulled out of the lot, and drove back onto the road.

After driving for a half hour on the highway, Percy and Annabeth were arguing over which road to take. "Look, the radio just said that the highway has traffic, Percy!" Annabeth said, pointing at the map. "So we should take the back route--"

"But I just saw a sign that said there was construction going on!" Percy exclaimed.

"Exactly!" Annabeth said, exasperated. "But if we take this road," she jabbed at a spot on the map, "then we can bypass it."

"No, that leads us south, Annabeth!"

"It obviously doesn't! It's leading west, into Indiana! Just look at it!"

"Oh, okay, I'll violate the most important rule of the road and look at the map, jeopardizing all our lives," remarked Percy sarcastically.

"Your head is full of kelp," muttered Annabeth.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Shut up!" Sholeh burst out suddenly. "It doesn't matter which road we take, as long as we're going in the general direction!"

"But we'll get there faster if we think about which road to take!" Percy and Annabeth declared in unison.

"Whatever," muttered Sholeh. Their past disagreement now forgotten, Percy and Annabeth began to whisper back and forth to each other, declaring jokingly that their map skills were far superior to Sholeh's.

Sholeh stared out the window at the seemingly endless farms, though not really noticing the scenery. She was still too incensed by the realization that the gods were filming their journey as entertainment.

Suddenly, Sholeh caught sight of a boy with golden, messy hair and shining hazel eyes. She screamed, "STOP THE CAR!" and leapt out into the field, though the van was still half moving. Percy and Annabeth yelled after her, but Sholeh was already sprinting into the corn, sure of who she had seen. "Leo! Leo!" she yelled, standing in the middle of the field, her heart pounding impossibly fast. She was so convinced that she had seen him alive, waving, waiting for her. But he was gone again, and it was like someone had stabbed a wound not yet closed.

Slowly, Sholeh walked back to the van. Flames sprang up where she stepped, consuming the corn stalks in an outward manifestation of her grief. Percy and Annabeth asked, worriedly, "What happened? Please, Sholeh, tell us." Percy had never seen Sholeh look so defeated. Although, she didn't shed a single tear, her entire body was limp and her eyes seemed devoid of all emotion. She just nodded 'no' and fell asleep, her head leaning against the cool glass window and body curled into a tight bundle, trying to remember the feel of his body encircling hers. I must be going crazy, was her last thought.

Sholeh sat bolt upright, her neck cracking from the sudden jolt. She was blinded for a moment and fumbled for her dagger, afraid that the car's sudden stop was because a monster was attacking. However, she only ended up falling off the seat and hitting her head against the window. "Ow, Styx," she mumbled, finally regaining her vision. Sholeh pulled herself up to see Percy and Annabeth already outside and standing before a glowing figure and a red sports car.

Realizing who the stranger was as the light dimmed, Sholeh groaned. "Not now," she said beneath her breath and rubbed her forehead. "He can't be here now."

The figure caught sight of Sholeh looking out the window and he approached the van, arms wide, apparently not sharing the girl's feelings of annoyance. "Rise and shine, sleepy head," came a sing-song voice. "Don't worry, Cousin Apollo's here to make it all better."

"Why are you here, Lord Apollo?" Sholeh snapped, crawling out of the van and staggering forward a few steps.

"Hon, I'm helping you," the god replied, looking hurt. Suddenly, he caught sight of his own reflection in the van's window and grinned. Apollo inspected his own tan skin, perfect blond hair, and athletic body, before winking at his mirror image.

"Oh, Hades," Sholeh grumbled, cradling her head in her right hand.

"Wait!" Apollo called out suddenly. Expecting some vital piece of information, the three demigods looked up. "It's haiku time."

"Remind me why I got up this morning," moaned Sholeh. But it was too late- the god had already started.

"I am so perfect/ everyone loves me a lot/ Sholeh owes me a kiss," Apollo proudly proclaimed. Arms wide and eyes sparkling, the god awaited their amazement, applause, or total devotion. Whichever came first.

"That was about as helpful as a hemorrhage," Sholeh remarked sarcastically and Apollo's face fell drastically, turning to a childish pout. Hurtful sarcasm did not fall under the categories of amazement, applause, or devotion.

"And wasn't the last line six syllables?" asked Annabeth skeptically.

"And I owe you nothing," continued Sholeh in a stern voice.

"Fine," the god whined. "Be that way. Jeez, tough crowd."

Sholeh rolled her eyes. "Where the Hades are we, anyway?"

"Just outside Gary, Indiana," answered Annabeth.

"Right-o," said Apollo. He snapped and pointed at Sholeh. "Which totally reminds me. Up the road about… oh, forty miles, there's a huge, like, pack of bloodthirsty monsters. And they're coming this way right now, since they smell not one, but two children of the Big Three. And about thirty-some miles back from here, Argus is coming to haul you three to Camp again. Oh, and Mr. D authorized him to use… what was it? Oh, yeah, 'deadly force.'" The three demigods stared at Apollo in shock. They would be caught between a horde of beasts that wanted to eat them and the Camp Half Blood security guard, who was instructed to bring them back dead or alive. It looked like their adventure was about to come to a screeching halt.

"Erm… okay," remarked Percy. "Thanks for um, letting us know."

"What are we going to do now?" Sholeh asked the two other demigods.

Apollo looked shocked. "Hello? Extremely good-looking, talented and powerful god here to help."

"Oh," said Annabeth, realizing this. "You really don't like to follow the 'No-helping-quests' rule."

"Nah," replied the god, "But anyway, this isn't a quest. This is three demigods who have just stolen a van and are attempting to drive cross country, but will, without my help, get eaten in about an hour."

"True," agreed Sholeh, looking Apollo in the eyes for a moment. It was then she was struck painfully by his resemblance to another… the same almond shaped, sparkling eyes, lips curved in playful smile, gracefulness.

The god must have noticed the pain in her eyes, because he said quietly, "Come on. It's going to be OK. Just get in the car. That's it, open the door..."

Sholeh snapped angrily at him. "I know what to do without your instructions, thanks." Apollo laughed and went to get the demigods' bags. Percy and Annabeth immediately climbed into the back seat, and in the small convertible sports car, there was room left for Sholeh only in the front. She sighed and sat down, glaring at Apollo when he climbed in beside her, grinning comically.

"For the record, I only sat here because there's no where else," stated Sholeh.

"Just keep telling yourself that, darling."

Half an hour later, Percy and Annabeth were talking quietly, leaning on each other for support once more. Sholeh turned around to look at the two, and smiled softly, but sadly too. After a pause, she sighed and turned to Apollo.

"Why did you come to help us?" she asked. "I'd bet anything that Zeus," the sky rumbled at this, "is going to be mad."

"Well, dad's been mad at me before, it's OK," the god replied. "I just feel like I should be helping you guys."

"Why?"

"Well, you killed Kronos for one," Apollo answered. Finally, here was a god admitting that he owed the demigods something. Sholeh would not have expected it coming from Apollo. "And for another, I know where you guys are going, dear, so…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh." Of course he knew that they were going to the Underworld.

"Sholeh," Apollo said after a moment of silence, "Can you tell him something from me?"

"Who? Leo?" Sholeh asked, staring at the god, though he looked straight ahead, as though ashamed to look at her.

"That I'm…uh…. Sorry," Apollo said slowly, as if he had forgotten how to apologize through lack of use. The god finally turned to look at Sholeh, at the surprise evident on her face, lingering grief and some deeper emotion that his words had touched. Admiration and understanding.

"Yes, I will," she said seriously. "I'll tell him that."

"He had a great future ahead of him," Apollo remarked, and for once Sholeh saw only a father who missed his son. "Lev had real talent."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Sholeh sat sideways, leaning to her right, to look down at the ground and the light spreading from the car. She liked seeing the darkness in front of her and the golden sunlight unfurling behind. Wishing that she too could be a source of illumination rather than destruction, Sholeh sighed wistfully. Fire doesn't create, she thought with a sad smile, it tears down what is already created.

"We're here!" came a loud, exuberant voice. The two awoke, (though they hadn't planned on going to sleep) entwined in each other's arms, to a grinning sun god a few inches away. Percy yelped and Annabeth's eyes widened in shock.

"Lord Apollo," Annabeth gulped, shaking slightly. "Please don't do that again."

"OK, sorry," Apollo said, still beaming. "You guys sure sleep a lot."

"Well, its something called being mortal. You wouldn't get it," joked Sholeh, stepping out of the car and stretching her limbs. Before them was a plain, but impressive building with a plaque that read 'DOA Recording Studios. No soliciting, no loitering, no living.' Sholeh stared at it, the thrill of a new adventure and excitement making her shiver slightly.

"This is it," she stated, eyes emanating passion. "This is it," she said again, softer this time, as if to make herself believe it. Sholeh unexpectedly whirled around to face the others, and Percy, Annabeth, and Apollo could see she was subtly quivering.

"Thanks for the ride," said Percy. Annabeth repeated the sentiment and the two walked up to the door, opened it and held it open, waiting for Sholeh.

"Thank you, Apollo," the daughter of Hades and Hestia said. Then, spontaneously, she walked up to the god, stood on her toes and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. Sholeh then ran into the building, her black hair flying wildly behind and her frame strong, no longer shaking.

Percy and Annabeth followed her, and the door slammed shut. Apollo waved, a smile plastered onto his face, then disappeared in a shower of golden light.


	6. Euphoria

FINALLY! The long-awaited chapter! I only hope that it lives up to you guys' expectations!

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, or any affiliated companies. I do not take credit for any of Rick Riordan's original characters of the story. However, Sholeh Prometheus, Leo Eliot, and Damien (new OC) are my own characters.

* * *

The three demigods were greeted by a wave of warm air and cool strains of Muzak. Stepping into the plainly furnished room, Sholeh was glad of the warmth, but not of the music. "Ugh," she groaned, "I hate easy listening." At this, a businesslike man behind the desk who was dressed in an Italian suit looked up.

"Well, get used to it," he retorted. "Because that just earned you an extra two hundred years sitting here." Sholeh suddenly realized that the man was Charon, ferryman of souls to the Underworld. And apparently he didn't take kindly to insults about his taste in music. The three demigods looked at each other uncertainly before walking up to the desk behind which Charon sat.

"Excuse me," Sholeh began, proud of herself for being so polite, "But we're not dead."

Charon looked up abruptly to study their faces. Noticing Percy, he exclaimed angrily, "Hey! You're the kid who promised he would get me a pay raise! And guess what, _buddy_," he continued mockingly, jabbing Percy in the chest with one finger accusingly, "I got nothing. Zip, zilch. Goose egg. Now, I'm getting into debt and --" He was cut off by the phone ringing. Percy rubbed the spot where Charon had poked him and mouthed 'Ow' to Annabeth, who rolled her eyes.

"Charon speaking, DOA Recording Studios, Los Angeles, California. Entrance to the Underworld," he said wearily. After listening to the person on the other line for a couple seconds, he handed the phone to Percy. "You're lucky that I'm even letting you take this call. It's for you." The boy's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he took the phone. Sholeh waited impatiently, tapping her fingers on the desk. Charon stared at her, then suddenly grabbed a Filofax and started leafing through it.

"Hello?" asked Percy. "Yes… Oh, oh well, I guess he was telling the truth…. Wait, what? What do you mean? How?" his voice raised to a louder volume as Percy looked worriedly at Annabeth. "Is he alright?... Oh no…. Yes, you're right… I'll tell her…. Well, I'm sorry, but there was nothing else to be done…. Alright. I'll call you back." The son of Poseidon gave the phone back to Charon, who looked as if he wanted to berate Percy some more.

"Percy, what's wrong?" Annabeth asked. The boy looked like he was in a daze, and though he opened his mouth, he was unable to form words to describe the conversation.

After a moment, Sholeh spoke up. "Tell us who that was and what they said, Percy," her voice as sharp and clear as steel. "Now."

He gaped for a second more, then began to tell the story. "That was Chiron," he admitted. "He said that this morning, Luke was found just outside Camp borders." Then with a concerned glance at Annabeth, he added, "Dead." The daughter of Athena took a deep, shuddering breath but said nothing. Percy reached for her hand comfortingly before continuing. "Nico was the one who found him. He had been patrolling the Northern borders and saw Luke lying there, so he went to carry him into Camp." Percy looked down at the ground and watched his dirty untied shoelace intently, as if to postpone what he needed to say. Sholeh drummed her fingers on the desk more impatiently, a nervous habit that she had developed in the past months.

"Nico was bringing Luke's body inside for burial. But a manticore attacked, and Nico wasn't prepared, and well… it poisoned him." Sholeh gasped. Her eyes darted across the room frantically, like a feral animal looking for a way to escape. No, this wasn't right, it wasn't fair, she couldn't lose Nico too.

"Is he still alive?" Annabeth asked, panic clearly written upon her face.

"Yes," said Percy, still staring at the floor. "But he's very sick, and well… it doesn't look good."

Sholeh abruptly stopped moving. Her hand froze, just as it was about to tap the table again, and hovered in place. She stared at a single point on the bleak, austere wall before her. Her mind, however, was thrown into motion, a mad dash for the answer, and which of her loved ones to choose. Leo or Nico. Leo or Nico. The names drummed away in her head, a crazed military march. To choose the boy she loved and who loved her, or the boy who was her brother, the only true family she had. If she left Leo for any longer, she would surely go mad. If she left Nico, she would have abandoned him when he needed her most.

Annabeth must have noticed the painful thought that Sholeh was going through, because she approached the girl and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sholeh flinched, but Annabeth didn't move her hand away.

"We'll go back," Percy finally declared. A couple of the dead who were sitting around them looked up intently, apparently following the drama unfolding before them. "You go to the Underworld, Sholeh, and we'll go back to Camp."

Sholeh looked up at her two friends. "And you won't let anything happen to Nico?" she asked harshly. "You'll IM me?"

"Yes," said Annabeth decisively, nodding slightly in agreement with Percy's idea.

Sholeh visibly relaxed. Her navy blue eyes closed for a moment and her lips separated slightly. "Thank you," she said, her voice more determined than ever. _Here I come._

Percy and Annabeth dipped their heads in acknowledgement of the sentiment. Slowly, as if unsure how to begin, the son of Poseidon addressed Sholeh. He and Annabeth realized suddenly that Sholeh would have to journey alone into the Underworld, which Percy feared would not be welcoming by any stretch of the imagination, even though she was the daughter of Hades. "No one has ever been rescued from the Underworld before," he said.

"Thanks for those encouraging words, Percy," Sholeh replied sarcastically, the subtlest suggestion of a smile in her eyes. "That makes me feel oh so much better about trying to do just that."

"No, what I mean is," he fumbled for the right words. "You'll be the first to do it." The girl's mouth softened into a true smile.

"You can save him, Sholeh," Annabeth added, taking a step backward into Percy's arms. Then, the two walked back toward the door.

"Oh, wait!" Sholeh stopped them, and pressed a heavy bag filled with drachmas into Percy's hand. "You're going to need a way to get back. And just don't let anything happen to my little brother, or I'll blame you," she said with a grin that hid the anxiety inside.

"OK, Sholeh," Percy said, smiling back. He took Annabeth's hand and the two walked out of DOA Recording Studios into the city of Los Angeles. Sholeh stood for a few moments watching her two friends, the only constants in her life since she had arrived at Camp Half Blood almost two years ago. Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around swiftly, ready for an attack, Sholeh saw that Charon had approached her fearfully.

"Are you Sholeh Prometheus Hadeva?" he asked quietly, eyes darting around the room nervously.

"I'm Sholeh Prometheus, yeah," she said, grimacing at the use of her formal last name. "Why?"

"I've been given orders concerning your arrival," Charon replied, staring down at the girl before him. "And might I add that I am so, so terribly sorry about confusing you with one of the dead," he added hastily. "It's just that you know, they keep coming. Job gets predictable, when everyone who comes in here has died."

"I don't care," she said impassively, "As long as you don't actually keep me here for two hundred years." Charon laughed tensely, his voice sounding forced.

The ferryman took out a pager made of solid gold, pressed a button, and then motioned for Sholeh to get on the elevator across the room. Knowing that this was the entrance to the Underworld, Sholeh took purposeful strides over to the elevator, pressed the button herself, despite Charon's protests that he should do this for her, waited for the 'ding' of the opening door and left the world of the living.

* * *

For a moment, Sholeh thought that it was just an ordinary elevator. Elevator music played softly, and she stared at Charon who stood as far away from her as possible. And then, Sholeh's eyesight began to go fuzzy and the world swirled, as though the blood had rushed to her head. Raising a hand to her temple, Sholeh saw her surroundings blend together for a moment, becoming darker, more surreal. When her mind cleared a second later, she was not in an elevator any longer, but on a boat, and Charon was robed in a long black cloak. Sholeh knew that if he turned around, his would be a skeleton's face. Charon's voice suddenly sounded, echoing eerily, "Welcome to the Underworld, Miss Hadeva."

"My name is Sholeh," she replied through gritted teeth, and directed her attention to the water beneath her.

Looking downwards, Sholeh saw the abandoned hopes, memories, and aspirations that littered the River Styx. A newly published book, a plastic doll, a silver watch, a college diploma, a faded sepia photograph, a white lace wedding dress stained brown by the water, a wooden hockey stick, a guitar, a TI-84 Plus calculator, a glittering diamond ring-- the objects were too numerous to count and far too numerous to name. Sholeh watched the ripples caused by the boat upset each piece of people's lives and sent them bouncing off one another. She stared at the mementoes floating in the water, trying to guess what they had meant to their owners before they were pushed away by the current. Suddenly, the boat hit shore, and Sholeh's reverie was abruptly ended.

Charon motioned for Sholeh to exit the boat, his grinning skeleton face looming in the darkness. The girl could see that the Underworld was black and dank like an underground cavern, with a stone ceiling covered in stalactites to match. Up ahead was the place of judgment, which was far different from anything Sholeh would have imagined. It was not a feat of grand architecture that the dead would first see, but what seemed to be a tollbooth. Above one of the lines was a sign that read 'EZ Death', which Sholeh laughed out loud at. Charon turned, staring quizzically at the laughing girl.

"That's ironic," she scoffed, explaining to the ferryman. "People wait all their lives in lines like these, and have to wait some more when they die."

"Uh, sure, Miss," replied Charon, "Now right ahead is the…. Not person, but _spirit_, I guess, who will be showing you the way."

"Spirit?" asked Sholeh, before looking around to see whom Charon could mean. And at that moment, a lithe figure slipped out, seemingly from nowhere, to stand approximately ten feet from Sholeh. He was tall and had straight black hair that partially hid his eyes, which were darker than night. His features were elegant, like those of a marble statue, and every line of his face seemed to suggest contempt for his surroundings. The unknown boy wore a completely black suit, which could not hide the graceful lines of his olive-skinned body.

Sholeh stared uncertainly at the approaching the stranger. After what seemed like hours, he was only a foot away. He reached out his hand for Sholeh to shake, but she didn't move. "Miss Hadeva," he said, and his voice was like silk and the growl of a panther all at once. Sholeh noticed that the palms of his hands were pitch black and that he wore some sort of pendant around his neck, which seemed to be made of black chain links.

"Don't call me that," Sholeh snapped, taking an instant dislike to the boy. He chuckled mockingly, and Sholeh glared, sparks springing up to play among the strands of her hair.

"Very well," he replied, gazing at the fire that began to wind around her hands. "I don't like my last name either, you see. So I can understand," the boy paused to smile faintly, "why you dislike yours."

Sholeh didn't reply, but the boy continued. "In both cases, our names are a symbol of oppression. Yes, I think that we are _very_ alike."

"I think not," Sholeh retorted, her voice dangerously cold.

He ignored this. "My name is Damien. I work for your father, and I've been instructed to bring you to his palace right away." Suddenly Sholeh was struck by a thought. Hades had known she was coming- had told Charon and this strange boy to meet her there. What if he already knew what she was here for? And what if he had already made up his mind to refuse her?

But Sholeh pushed these doubts from her mind. "I have no intention of going to my father's _palace_," she replied angrily. "If you're going to take me anywhere, take me to Elysium. Then, after, I will go to his palace."

Damien chuckled mockingly. "Yes, my Lord Hades thought that you might want to do that." So Hades had known what she came for. "Yes, alright. This way." The boy turned, the coattails of his suit flying backwards. Sholeh looked back for Charon, but the ferryman had vanished. She followed Damien, arms swinging sharply and head high, watching the line of dead. Suddenly, a huge three-headed dog materialized in between the lines, and began to bark. Sholeh froze in her tracks, paralyzed with fright. Few people knew it, but the girl was terrified of any dogs, let alone gargantuan monster ones. Cerberus bounded up to Sholeh, yelping happily like a puppy and all three heads sniffed her.

"Get this thing away from me!" Sholeh yelled, as Damien watched Cerberus bark at and lick Sholeh. Apparently the dog recognized that Sholeh was its master's daughter, and wanted to play. Damien whistled once, a shrill echoing sound, and the dog instantly sat.

Sholeh groaned and wiped dog saliva off her face, before walking over to where Damien watched amusedly. "Oh, you think that's funny, do you…?" she asked furiously. "I'll show you something funny…"

"Do you want to go to Elysium or not?" the spirit boy asked, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. Sholeh nodded her head almost imperceptibly and Damien snapped his fingers three times. A whirlwind of color and sound suddenly enveloped Sholeh. Unable to see anything but blurred images, the girl tried to scream, but no sound came out. For a few terrible moments, a strange feeling rose up within Sholeh, and then it was over. She turned, shocked and trembling to her right, to see Damien standing calmly, smugly beside her. The two were in a beautiful gated community with clean and elegant houses lining the streets. Sholeh took a deep breath and smelled freshly cut grass and ice cream on the breeze. Everywhere, people were laughing, having barbeques, swimming in pools, riding bikes, and generally having fun. She immediately knew that they were in Elysium.

* * *

Sholeh squinted her eyes to look at the horizon, which was blindingly bright, though she had no idea where the light came from. Inexplicably, a fierce joy rose in her heart before Sholeh had time to acknowledge the reason for it. She wanted to run, to leap, and to laugh until she cried, but then to never cry so that this feeling would never end.

At the very edge of her vision, a figure came into focus. A boy not much older than herself was walking down the street, messy blond hair falling across his face, expressive chocolate eyes looking downward, and lips moving in silent song. Instinctively he looked up to see the form of a girl gazing at him with overpowering intensity. Leo didn't move, his body frozen in incredulity and heart beating impossibly fast. The way he stared was more intimate than a kiss. The emotion Sholeh felt was much the same when she stood in the doorway of a cathedral, or under the eaves of an ancient forest, or when looking up at the light glancing off a skyscraper made of glass and steel. A feeling of reverence so powerful that it resembled pain, and tears began to obscure Sholeh's vision.

And suddenly she could not bear it any longer, and tore down the empty street towards the boy. Her hair flew back like the flames from a blowtorch, and she gasped for air, not realizing that she had been holding her breath. Leo nearly fell over with the force from which Sholeh sprang to him, but he was laughing, a golden euphoria. Sholeh buried herself in him, immediately forgetting all but the perfection that was Leo. Sholeh's body tingled all over, as if tiny bolts of electricity were conducted through her- a lightning rod for happiness. Tenderly, Leo kissed Sholeh's forehead, her raven hair trembling with his breath.

"You came," Leo whispered, and the girl rejoiced in the sound of his voice, which she had nearly forgotten.

"There was something I had to tell you," Sholeh replied. "I love you, Leo. More than anything." The girl felt this new weight settle on her shoulders, a commitment, but this was not the leaden burden that had pushed her down all these months when he was gone. This promise was like feathery wings upon her back or the embrace of the sun's most delicate rays. She and Leo took a deep, trembling breath at the same time.

Suddenly, and for the first time in her life, Sholeh realized that she believed in miracles.

* * *

I'm not sure how I feel about the end... I spent a lot of time working on it. Ooh, and what do you all think about Damien?

School's started now, so updates will definitely be less frequent.


	7. Sholeh Meets Her Match

Wow, that really took ages. Sorry everyone! I've had ridiculous amounts of work, and finally forced myself to write a chapter.

Also sorry about how short this chapter is. Things will pick up soon, I promise.

* * *

"Yes!" cried Leo, picking Sholeh up around the waist and spinning her around. Sholeh laughed and stared down at the ecstasy etched on Leo's face. Surely no one had ever been happier, ever would be, because life could begin again, and she was sure that she could save him. "But," he began in a softer tone, putting her back on the ground, "how did you get here? Chiron let you leave? You didn't travel alone, did you? Because that's really not safe, and—"

"I told you, Leo," Sholeh began mock exasperatedly, poking his nose lightly. "In my dream, remember? Chiron wasn't letting me leave. But then after the dream, Percy and Annabeth decided to come, but they had to turn around since Nico was wounded," Sholeh finished, her smile fading a little at the mention of Nico. How was her half brother? He was still alive, she knew. Surely Percy and Annabeth wouldn't let anything happen to him- Sholeh didn't think she could withstand another loss.

"What dream?" Leo asked confusedly.

"The dream that you came to me in," Sholeh stated, as if it were obvious.

"I didn't send a message through a dream," Leo replied. Suddenly it hit Sholeh. That hadn't been Leo. It was only her grief-wracked imagination. But it had seemed so clear, so real. And it had been so comforting through it all to know that he was watching, that he had sent her a sign. But now- maybe she was just going crazy. Sholeh moved closer to Leo, wishing that she had never learned about that dream.

"Ahem," coughed Damien lightly, standing ten feet away. Sholeh and Leo spun around to face him, arms around each other and faces surprised, desperate like the iconic picture of Romeo and Juliet. Seeing the spirit, Sholeh glared and tucked a strand of rebellious black hair behind her ear, only to have the lock leap out once more a second later. "I am truly sorry to interrupt such a tender moment, but-"

"Who the Hades are you?" Leo asked angrily, his voice like a growl. Damien only smirked in response, the corners of his lips drooping slightly. Leo took a step forward, with one arm curled around Sholeh possessively, the other trailing instinctively to his back where a bow and arrow would have hung during life. "Firegirl, who is this?" the son of Apollo asked once more, his voice unnaturally sharp.

"He's just some _minor _spirit who works for my dad," Sholeh began, savoring the look of anger that passed across Damien's face at the introduction.

"I would like to remind Miss Hadeva, that I was the one who brought her here, and can very well take her back," the spirit said curtly, emphasizing 'Hadeva' knowingly.

"Call me that one more time," Sholeh snarled, sparks beginning to play among her dark hair. Her hand clenched unconsciously and Leo took a step away from her and tried to ignore the flickers of heat emanating off her; recognizing the signs of Sholeh's dangerous fury.

"Or what?" Damien asked with a careless wave of his hand.

Sholeh smiled a little and a flame sprung up around the boy-spirit, but she could still see his smirk through them. Frowning a little, she urged the fire higher, until it obscured her vision, spreading a wave of heat and light through the freezing Underworld. Leo inched closer to Sholeh, placing a comforting hand on her waist. The fire began to die, and Sholeh remarked with a scowl, "That's what."

"Firegirl, you shouldn't have done that. I don't think your dad will be so happy about tha—"

But when the inferno, which had previously burned with such fury, was reduced to a tiny limp pile of ashes, Sholeh could see that Damien still stood, arms crossed and black suit impeccably clean.

"What…?" she questioned anxiously. Sholeh could feel Leo's arm tighten, uncomfortably so, and then there was a wave of icy air that replaced the fire's heat.

"Too bad that didn't work," the spirit boy remarked coldly. "And firegirl- that's a cute nickname. Maybe I should call you that instead…" he trailed off, apparently delighting in the outraged and furious expressions of Sholeh and Leo's faces. They said nothing though- it was surreal to see an enemy that Sholeh couldn't destroy.

"Well, this has been a fun little reunion," Damien continued. "But I think that its time to go now, as Lord Hades will be waiting." He made a move to snap his fingers, but Sholeh stopped him.

"Wait!" she called, her voice harsh. "Leo comes too."

"Alright," Damien shrugged, and the world suddenly blurred together once more. Sholeh moved instinctively closer to Leo as colors and forms shifted, everything uncertain and dark. It's like being inside a kaleidoscope, Sholeh thought in that brief moment, and then it was over before it began.

* * *

Leo opened his eyes, which had been clenched together, though he hadn't realized or meant to close them. What he saw was a room of black obsidian with in its center, a chair made of bones. The boy shivered, thinking that they looked eerily human. On the seat was a tall albino man with shoulder length black hair. He seemed to exude sheer, uncontrollable power from every inch of him. Death conquers all, Leo thought, Hades is so powerful… maybe we should give up. But then he caught a glimpse of the girl standing to his right. Leo shook his head as if to clear away the doubts assailing him.

"Daughter," intoned Hades, lord of the dead. That one word suddenly brought into sharp similarity the features of Sholeh and the god. The father and daughter shared the same translucent skin, the same curved lips, scowling eyebrows, and dark, indecipherable eyes.

Sholeh nodded her head slightly in recognition, and spoke, her voice sounding tiny and alone, "Lord Hades, Son of Kronos, He Who Has Many Names, Silent One, and Lord of the Dead… Father." Leo lifted one eyebrow in surprise. He had never known Sholeh to be so respectful towards a god before. But then he noticed that her fists clenched and trembling slightly, and thought of all the sentiments she must have been biting her tongue not to say.

"I've been waiting for you, Sholeh," her father continued, ignoring her address. Sholeh winced at the use of her own name; Hades pronounced the word as if it were a condemnation to death.

"Then, Father, you know what I came for," the girl said. In the huge cavern of Hades' throne room, Sholeh seemed a solitary figure teetering in the middle of all-consuming darkness. And yet, to Leo's eyes, she seemed right, as if she belonged in the Underworld.

"Yes," Hades said without any expression.

"Well?" Sholeh asked impatiently, her fire flaring to life once more. "You know that Leo was taken from me unjustly. You, more than any other. But I will not leave him." The boy was struck suddenly by the magnitude of her statement. To declare such undying loyalty, risk her life for his, and travel to the very place he knew she hated most. "I know that no one has ever returned from death before, but--"

"And for good reasons. Death is not to be controlled. It is not a toy for the whims of children, but a force more powerful than any other—"

"I don't care!" Sholeh spat, her voice rising.

"There is simply nothing—"

"I'm not leaving without him," Sholeh continued, almost yelling. Hades frowned and leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Not again. And I killed Kronos, doesn't that deserve something? Some consideration?"

"What you fail to grasp, daughter, is that the principle of Death cannot be twisted around just to save this boy!" Hades' voice was now a terrifying shriek and his entire throne room shook with the god's anger. "Mortals do not dictate the actions of Olympians, we are not of the same breed! And your boldness borders on blasphemy!"

"You gods, you think that you can control everyone; use them as your pawns!" Leo trembled seeing the father and daughter, their matched rage without limits.

Suddenly, the palace quaked and Sholeh was thrown to the ground, landing heavily on her stomach, seemingly prostrate before Hades. She tried to scramble to her feet, but skeletons materialized, surrounding the girl and pushing her back down onto her back.

"You will NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Hades screamed, his voice like the clash of swords. "I am a god! I COMMAND YOU!"

For the first time, Leo believed that he could see terror, stark and paralyzing in Sholeh's eyes. This was a god with power far greater than her own, and still horrifyingly like her. They had the same uncontrollable, destroying fury and hotheaded independence. The son of Apollo believed that she saw what she could become reflected in her father.

After a moment, the lord of the dead continued, in a disturbingly calm voice. "But there is time to talk of all this later, Sholeh. Now, you will be escorted to your room in the palace, which I have taken the liberty of preparing for you." At this, the skeletons picked Sholeh up, and try as she might to escape their grasp, they began to carry her towards the door.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, flailing her arms. Damien followed a short distance behind, tapping a pen against a black clipboard he held.

Leo stood in the throne room, astounded and terrified of what he had just seen. Turning to Lord Hades, who was glaring evilly, his eyes widened. "Erm, I'll just be going now," he said, his voice squeaking in fear. Leo sprinted away, all too glad to leave the god, and began to follow the procession of skeletons carrying a very angry demigod.

* * *


	8. Photograph on the Dashboard

hey there all you fanfiction people. so i'm making up for how ridiculously long it took for me to update last time, by updating now! yay!

this chapter is pretty fluffy. the majority is sheo/ random conversation/ character stuff. not so much plot until the very, very end. but fluff is fun, n'est-ce pas?

ooh, chapter for this title is taken from the song "nightswimming" by R.E.M. since i listened to it while writing this.

Disclaimer: as my sister would say, la-duh

PS: sorry that i've been really lazy lately and haven't replied to like any reviews. i'll get better at that. promise. kthanxbai.

* * *

The band of skeletons alternately carried and dragged Sholeh, kicking and screaming, through multiple dusty corridors and up a few flights of stairs, through the interminable labyrinth of Hades' palace. Leo was never far behind, slowly realizing by the sight of the god's impressive, albeit morose, home, the true power that Death held. No one, not a single one of the great heroes could conquer it, not any of the brilliant minds could solve it, and not even the craftiest could escape it. Hades was far greater than any mortal king, and in Leo's mind, greater than the other gods, because he had no need of others, no fatal weaknesses- he was fatality. All bowed to him in cold submission sooner or later.

Finally, the small band deposited the irate daughter of Hades and Hestia, with Leo walking pensively behind her, at the entrance to a bedroom. The door was made of mahogany stained black, and had a large, heavy iron doorknob. Sholeh pulled herself to her feet, trying to regain what was left of her dignity, and ashamed that her hands still trembled slightly from fear. The skeletons, which Sholeh suddenly noticed were dressed in servant's livery, motioned for her to enter, and the girl scowled.

"That's it," she said furiously, and after concentrating a moment, the skeletons erupted in burst of blue flame. "That'll teach daddy dearest that I'm not completely helpless," she grumbled, opening the door before her. The girl took a peek inside, and turned back to look at Leo, her face impassive. Sholeh then threw the door wide open and took a step inside.

The room was clearly a bedroom designed specifically for Sholeh. The walls were painted black, with red curtains shrouding two large windows with a view of the courtyard. In between the two windows was a huge mahogany bed and across from this was a large wardrobe and dresser. Taking a few uncertain steps, Sholeh walked over to the dresser and opened it, seeing her own clothes. On one wall was a map of the Underworld drawn in great detail and on the other hung a number of sharp, wickedly glinting daggers. On the dresser, Sholeh suddenly noticed a picture of herself, taken when she was at Camp Half Blood. In it, her hair was still its former golden shade and she was smiling, eyes lit up with radiant happiness. The picture seemed worn and water-stained, and upon seeing it, Sholeh sighed.

"Why would he possibly think that I would want a picture of myself?" she wondered aloud, pointing the picture out to Leo. The boy frowned slightly and picked up the frame.

"Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed. "This picture is mine!"

"What?"

"I took this photo at Camp. Then, when I was going to Elysium across the River Styx in Charon's ferry, he said to throw something into the water, something that I would miss terribly… Well, I threw this photo in," Leo looked confused. "How did it end up here?"

"Hades must have had someone fish it out of the water," replied Sholeh. Exhausted, she plopped down on her bed.

"Odd…" Leo said softly, staring at the fading picture. It seemed to him a sign from bygone days of how Sholeh had been before the war, before the prophecy, before his death. Sadness pricked at his mind, wishing that she would never have experienced any of it. Guilt too, for playing his role in her change. But still, Leo held impossible hope for the future, that someday things would go back to that, and Sholeh would smile like she was in the photograph all the time. He would do anything to have that picture become reality.

"I don't want to admit it, but this room is perfect," Sholeh sighed wearily. "And still, do you think that Hades was watching me all this time? Do you think he was studying me all throughout my childhood, or something? Trying to figure out what I like? It's more than a little creepy, know what I mean?"

"Yeah, but I don't think so. Maybe he watched you after you got the prophecy, but not before. More likely, you just happen to have similar tastes."

"Great," Sholeh replied sarcastically.

After a few moments of silence, in which Leo took the picture out of its frame, painstakingly trying not to rip the battered photograph, and put it in his pocket, Sholeh spoke once more. "I don't know how I'm going to do this, Leo."

The son of Apollo strode over to the bed and fell down on it next to her. "Maybe you should… just, forget about it," he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"What?" Sholeh's voice was sharp, "Forget about you? Don't you want to live?"

"Of course I do. I want to leave this place forever and come back with you. But…"

"I don't know how I'll do it, but I will. Hades is… he's more powerful than I expected. I can do it. You believe me, right? Because I'm getting you out of here."

"There isn't a doubt in my mind, firegirl," Leo replied, smiling. "You're just giving up so much."

"What? I'm not giving up anything. Getting Chiron annoyed at me, maybe. But really, that's all I'm missing." After a slight pause, Sholeh suddenly laughed, her voice echoing against the room's high ceiling.

"What's so funny?" Leo asked, though he started to laugh as well.

"I… don't… know," Sholeh gasped, amidst her giggles.

"That's… interesting," Leo replied, now unable to control his laughter also.

"Hey, Casanova," Sholeh whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Pepperoni." The two demigods burst out in unstoppable hysterics, tears streaming down their faces. Sholeh laughed so hard that she fell backwards off the bed, causing Leo to howl even louder. She grabbed his leg and pulled the son of Apollo down onto the ground next to her. Finally, Leo and Sholeh stopped laughing enough that they could speak once more, though both their stomachs hurt. But it was a good kind of pain, and Sholeh felt happiness surge through her, an emotion that had been scarce the past year.

"Pepperoni? Why was that even funny? And how was that even remotely related to what we were talking about?" Leo asked jokingly.

"I have no clue," said Sholeh, shaking her head and grinning.

"What were we talking about anyway? Before someone," at this Leo glared at the girl, wagging his eyebrows comically, "led us off completely off topic by mentioning meat byproducts. Which was strangely hilarious. I don't quite know why… Pepperoni," Leo stated. Sholeh stared blankly at him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm seeing if it's still funny. Pepperoni." Neither of them laughed and stared at each other blankly.

"It's only funny when I say it," Sholeh replied, raising an eyebrow.

"That's not fair!" the boy exclaimed.

"Oh, cry me a river," she retorted. "See, I'll show you. Pepperoni." Leo let out a giggle, and then swore.

"How is that possibly funny? It causes, like some strange chemical reaction so I have to laugh," Leo said, staring at Sholeh helplessly.

"Ha, I control you."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"What are we talking about?" Leo asked again. "Because right now, our conversation is straying dangerously into the realms of complete and total silliness."

"Hades, remember?"

"Oh right." There was a moment of companionable silence then, before the boy continued.

"You're a lot like him, you know." Leo said casually, as if in passing.

"Who?" Sholeh said, though she suspected whom he meant. The smile faded from her face, though she still didn't quite process the statement.

"Your dad." He placed his hand carefully on Sholeh's. Hers was so warm, like a hearth fire, and his so cold, frozen in icy death. The girl shivered, but grasped Leo's hand tightly, wishing that she could warm him back into life.

Suddenly, the meaning of his words struck Sholeh. "What do you mean?" she whispered, fear creeping back into her heart.

"You both have that same uncontrolled fury… it's hard to describe. Like a force of nature, almost. I don't think you realize it, firegirl, but you have the same effect on most people as Hades does on you."

"But I don't want to be like that, Leo," Sholeh replied, her voice barely audible. Leo moved closer and the two gazed determinedly at the ceiling, as if it could give them the answers they so richly desired. "I don't want to be a force of destruction. You, you create. Music and laughter and friendship… I burn stuff. Anything that gets in my way. I hate it, but at the same time I love it…. Sometimes I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"That I'll lose control. I'll destroy what I really love. And I'm scared that I'll begin to love that destruction more than creation."

"You won't, firegirl."

"How do you know?" Sholeh tore her gaze away from the ceiling to stare at Leo. His chocolate eyes remained fixedly above them.

"I won't let you," the boy grinned and turned to her. Sholeh smiled and pushed his shoulder lightly. "And by the way, it's a good thing that you're like him, sort of."

"How is that possibly good?"

"Well, people respect you for it," Leo replied comfortingly and Sholeh stared back at him questioningly.

"Name five people."

"Uh, there's me. And... well... I count as five people. I'm that awesome," Leo declared, making a grand gesture with his arms. Sholeh laughed and moved closer.

"That's why we're such a good team," she said, a tiny, affectionate smile reappearing on her lips.

"Yeah," Leo agreed, and Sholeh moved closer to him. She closed her eyes, trying to forget where she was, who she was, everything but the person she was with. Suddenly, the door opened with a loud 'bang.' The two demigods turned abruptly, and Sholeh pulled out her dagger, her battle reflexes flaring up.

Much to Sholeh's surprise, though, an unarmed woman seemingly in her late twenties walked in. She wore a long, flowing white skirt with a flower-patterned top and was grinning from ear to ear. Her features seemed kind and caring, like a mother or nurse. She immediately saw Sholeh and Leo and her smile grew even wider as she approached the two with arms open wide. Sholeh stared at her skeptically, unsure what to make of this unknown woman, and somehow distrusted her kind appearance.

"Oh, you two dears!" the woman cried, her voice melodic and pleasant. "You are of course Sholeh and Leo! Of course, of course. How very, very pleased I am to meet you both!" She grabbed both Sholeh and Leo's hand and shook them enthusiastically. "Now, I trust that you both found everything to your liking? Mr. Eliot," Sholeh smirked at Leo being referred to so formally, "you know that your room is just down the hall? You're all settled in? " And then, not waiting for a response, the woman continued. "Excellent, excellent. Well, words can just not describe how ecstatic I am to finally meet you, the talk of Olympus you are." Seeing both demigods staring blankly at her, she began to speak again.

"Mr. Demon did explain everything to you, correct?" she asked, wringing her hands, as if the thing that mattered most to her was Sholeh and Leo's comfort.

"Mr. Demon?" Leo asked.

"Yes, yes, he's Lord Hades' helper, so to speak. First name of Damien, tall with black hair, wears a suit--"

"Oh," sighed Leo, realizing who she spoke of. Sholeh's eyes widened, remembering Damien's statement about last names, that he didn't like his. So that was what his hated last name was: Demon. Damien Demon. And no wonder he hates it, thought Sholeh, though she hated agreeing with the spirit, that's probably what he is. A demon, bound to work for my father. It's a reminder of his slavery. Realizing that the woman had kept talking through her reverie, something about seeing the two of them on Aphrodite TV, Sholeh suddenly interrupted her.

"Who are you?" asked Sholeh, her voice harsh. "What the Hades are you doing here, anyway?" Leo tapped her lightly on the shoulder, reminding her of her manners. Sholeh sighed, annoyed.

"Oh, silly me. Here I come rushing in, asking you all these questions, and you don't even know who I am. I just get carried away with myself sometimes, you see, and ramble on, so do excuse me if I do it again. Why there was this one time with my mother where I-- oh, but there I go again. I'm Persephone, Lord Hades' wife."

* * *

Ha, cliffie. Sort of, not really. Not sure when I'll update next. This chappie was longer than the last one, hooray.


	9. Nescio

wow, sorry guys. i know that i said i would update on friday, but then i came down with a cold and had homecoming on saturday, and violin on sunday. so, sorry again about that.

in this chapter, long-ish discussion with persephone, leo is confused and confusing, damien is more so. sholeh thinks a lot. yeah.

Chapter for this title ("nescio") is latin for 'I do not know'. It'll make sense after reading it. (or at least i hope so!)

* * *

"Wait, what?" asked Sholeh blankly as she gaped at Persephone. To her right, Leo's expression was identical, his jaw hanging open with disbelief. Sholeh was strangely unable to process the woman's words: Persephone…. What?

The goddess giggled in reply. "Oh, you two," she began and walked over to Sholeh's dresser, looking at the empty picture frame on it. "You heard me perfectly well, I know. Now, Mr. Eliot, you should be in your own room—"

The statement snapped Sholeh back to reality. "But it's already, what, February?"

"Yes, February twelfth," Persephone replied in a carefree tone. On the floor, Leo gulped noisily and got to his feet. He then pulled Sholeh up to stand beside him, the top of her head reaching just to the tip woof his nose. The girl released his hand, now to involved in the conversation with the goddess, and took a step forward. Leo remained by the bed, unsure of what to do. Persephone seemed kind enough, but could she help them? Leo knew that Sholeh would have little patience for the immortal if she disagreed with Hades' and Hestia's daughter. But to Leo, it seemed that the odds were stacked against them. A powerful goddess, glad to see her husband's bastard child? Probably not.

"Well, shouldn't you be with Demeter now?" Sholeh asked roughly, and Leo winced at her informal address of the goddess' mother. For all the girl's power, she didn't have a clue how to be persuasive or polite. But then again, she didn't usually need to be. When facing an angry demigod with control over fire and death, one was easily persuaded to support her, regardless of how arrogantly she might speak.

"No, not until March twentieth," the goddess replied, before checking a golden watch on her arm, "at 5:48 P.M. That's when it officially becomes spring, you know."

"Oh," replied Sholeh, not knowing what to say next. Somehow, she hadn't expected Persephone to be so, so…. Well, actually she hadn't expected anything of Persephone, because she had never even thought of the goddess. Sholeh's thoughts had been focused solely on Leo, and she was now quite unsure of what to make of her father's wife.

"Now, I know that you must be awfully tired, dear," said Persephone, her voice bright and cheery. Sholeh blinked her eyes wearily, yawned, and immediately cursed herself for it as the goddess flashed her a knowing smile. "I know that you two want to be together- obviously, because Sholeh came all the way down here just for that reason- but, I must inform you that my husband thinks you should both get some sleep; it's been a long day." The woman paused for a moment and Sholeh raised one eyebrow disbelievingly. "Well, alright, Lord Hades didn't say anything about you two needing rest, but I think that you do. He was thinking it, though, I know." Sholeh couldn't control her scoff. Her father caring if she got enough beauty sleep? Hades would freeze over before that happened.

Leo took a faltering step toward the door, and as an afterthought, kissed Sholeh quickly, shyly on the cheek. The girl smiled as he walked unsurely out of the room and down the hallway. Sholeh turned to Persephone once more, confused at seeing the goddess drawing a bath in the marble washroom.

"What are you doing?" the daughter of Hades and Hestia asked harshly.

"Getting your bath ready for you," the goddess replied calmly, as if it were obvious. "Like I said, dear, you've had a long day—"

"I can do that myself, thanks," said Sholeh angrily. She wasn't some delicate daughter of Aphrodite, she could do stuff herself. And who was this woman anyway? Goddess, her father's wife, it didn't matter. She couldn't just strut in here—

"Alright," Persephone replied just as coolly, and with a smile on her face. Sholeh was surprised and blinked a few times in confusion. The girl was used to facing resistance, and yet here was a woman politely agreeing to her requests. Moreover, Persephone was nice about it.

Taken aback, Sholeh gulped and then said quietly, "I think I'll take a bath then go to bed."

Persephone smiled sweetly, walked forward, and hugged Sholeh tightly. Disgusted and bewildered, the demigod flinched and tried to escape the woman's grasp, but couldn't. Finally pulling away, Persephone stared down benignly at the scowling Sholeh. "This is wonderful. We are going to spend so much time together!" the goddess exclaimed. "I have three children, you know. Well, now they've joined me in the Underworld for half the year. They were mortals, you see. But I don't ever get to visit them," she continued, with a tiny sad smile. "I remember when they were your age."

Sholeh gaped warily at the woman. "Uh, sure," she said, unconvinced. Persephone's grin returned and she stepped lightly out of the room, but before closing the door, she called back to Sholeh.

"Oh, and tomorrow, dear, we'll begin to get ready for the party!" she said airily, and promptly slammed the door with surprising strength. The daggers on the wall shook with the resounding force.

Sholeh yelled back, "What party?" But the goddess was already gone.

"Well, that wasn't odd at all," Sholeh said sarcastically, voicing her thoughts aloud. "Telling Leo to go away, comparing me to her dead kids, then saying something about a party…. Someone is one bulb short of a chandelier." And yet, Sholeh felt a grudging gratitude for the woman's respect for her wishes. "Where's Leo's room? Oh, I guess I'll just see him in the morning." The girl strode over to the bathroom and, finding a large tub of some strange mixture a deep blue on the rim of the tub, decided that it was bubble bath, or something equivalent. Sholeh tipped the entire container recklessly, indifferently into the swirling water, pausing for a moment to watch the thousands of bubbles forming, light blue in color and growing every second. She undressed and slid into the bath just as the bubbles began to spill over onto the floor. Sholeh lay silently in the water then, savoring the light scent of soap and the water lapping against, caressing her skin. She closed her eyes, her pulse immediately slowing and muscles relaxing; even her thoughts becoming lethargic.

Sholeh had somehow always loved baths; when her body was entirely covered in water, oblivion claimed her. She forgot everything: her ambition, her anger, and stubbornness. The fire inside her was stifled during those times, and she secretly relished it. No one would expect it of her- Sholeh, the girl who could control fire, call it up spontaneously and command it to do her bidding: the glorified demigod version of a pyromaniac love water? Only Leo knew about Sholeh's secret love of ignorance and forgetting.

"Hey there, firegirl."

Sholeh's eyes were open in a second, Leo's voice immediately waking her from her reverie. "What are you doing here?" she asked, self consciously making sure that the water and bubbles were high enough, that she wasn't exposed. She was safe, all that could be seen was her face. "How long have you been here? Leo?" she asked frantically as he approached and sat down next to the tub, sitting in the puddle of water and bubbles spilled on the floor.

"I dunno," he replied, staring into Sholeh's deep blue eyes. Leo could see distinctly the nebula of color there, the tiny flecks of gold and copper embedded within the blue: indigo, aqua, cyan, navy, grey, black, and sapphire.

"Well, that's not a good explanation," she replied slowly, hypnotized by the scalding water and his gaze.

"You looked really peaceful," he said after a moment. The girl nodded in response.

"Why did you come to see me?" Sholeh asked once more, feeling an inexplicable desire to know the answer.

Leo frowned, his eyebrows drawing together and lips drooping. "I really don't know," he replied, bewildered. He grasped Sholeh's hand and brought it up from its resting place on the edge of the tub, slowly, tortuously slowly, close to his face. Leo kissed her knuckles, his teeth lightly grazing the bone, and then turned her hand over to the palm. He pressed his lips against the lines on the underside of her hand, gently, and Sholeh felt that familiar powerful emotion rising within her. But then Leo let her hand drop, and repeated, confused, seeming lost, "I don't know." He strode out of the room in a few long steps, and Sholeh was alone once more.

The girl cradled her hand within the other one, and slowly closed it, trying to hold that kiss to her skin, and lifted her hands up together, as if offering sacrifice or holding a baby bird up, encouraging it to fly. Her eyelids closed for a moment, but then Sholeh stood up, her legs heavy and incredibly slow to respond. She dressed, enjoying the feel of clean cloth against her body, and of the bed's softness when she lay down. All the while she kept that precious kiss close to her heart, enclosed by her fist.

Sholeh turned out the lights and fell asleep moments later, her tired eyes closed gently, and face more serene than it ever was in waking hours.

* * *

_Knock. Knock-knock_. Sholeh lay in bed, her brain still drugged by sleep, and refused to get up. _I don't care what it is_, she thought blurrily, i_t could be a monster for all I care. I don't care, I'm not getting up, no, I will not_. The knocking became louder and she could tell that it came from across the room. Finally it stopped for a moment before a loud creak also filled Sholeh's bedroom, though it was not that of the door. _I will not get up._

"Sholeh," came a silken voice, though it seemed agitated also. _NO_, the girl thought stubbornly. But suddenly the voice plucked at a string in her memory, and the chilling chord echoed. How dare he. The dresser burst into flame, and Sholeh pounced suddenly off her bed, dagger in hand, to face the spirit-boy before her.

"Get out," she growled, animal-like. Damien made a motion with his hand and the fire abruptly stopped.

"No," he said with a smile, apparently amused by her rage. But then he looked suspiciously around the room, and made a motion for Sholeh to follow him. She could see that across the room, in the middle of the wall, a tiny door was opened, that Sholeh was positive she hadn't seen before. In fact, it seemed that the wall had just swung open, exposing a dark passage. "Come on," Damien said impatiently.

"What?" Sholeh laughed viciously. "You actually think that I would go with you through some secret door in my room? Funny. That's real funny. Now, like I said before," her voice crackled dangerously like fire, "GET OUT."

A strange emotion passed momentarily across Damien's features. It was not anger, no, not frustration, perhaps disappointment? Or pain?

"Please, Sholeh," the boy-spirit begged, and it was a strangely pathetic noise. Sholeh suddenly realized that he was calling her by her real name.

"Where? Why?" she asked, still suspicious, and took three steps forward, keeping her dagger pointed towards Damien.

"There's something I need to show you," he replied, the pleading tone gone once more from his voice. It was again cold, arrogant, and commanding.

Sholeh would never know why she consented then, because there was no logic for it. Curiosity? No. It might have been pity for him, because she moved her dagger up a little, and it caught some light from out her window. The beam was then again reflected off the celestial bronze blade of Prometheus, and toward Damien's face. It caught and twinkled menacingly on the pendant encircling his neck—obsidian chain links. I don't know, she thought.

"Will you come with me?" Damien asked again, impatiently.

Sholeh sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. There was none of the earlier tranquility in her thoughts, and she was anything but sure of herself as she replied, "Yes.


	10. Light, Lacrimosa, and Love

Quick FYI: In the second part of this chapter, when it switches to Leo's POV, this is a couple hours after Sholeh goes back to sleep after seeing Damien

* * *

"Follow me," Damien said, his voice cold. Sholeh thought for a moment though, before he spun around and ducked into the hidden doorway, that she had glimpsed a tiny smile on his face. Not a smirk; a smile. The demon, bending down to walk through the dark passageway, which only came up to his shoulder, looked back and the smile was gone. He gestured with his arm for Sholeh to walk before him. She uncertainly crossed the room to step into the all-consuming darkness.

Sholeh had to duck her head just a little to avoid hitting the ceiling as she walked down the passage. The light grew dimmer and dimmer as she and Damien moved farther away, and it seemed to the girl that, as the light vanished, her doubts did as well. She felt inexplicably strong and powerful- she could handle anything. Darkness was where she belonged. No one was a match for her; she could cut down any enemy that crossed her path, and they would beg for mercy, but they would get none… Suddenly, Sholeh realized what she was thinking. A wave of sickness came over her, and it was then that the darkness became absolute. Complete darkness: for the first time in her life, Sholeh couldn't see anything at all. She kept walking, panic rising like bile in her throat, with the disgust of what she had believed moments before, and that she was completely unaware of where she was going. Finally, she couldn't take the agonizing hysteria any longer, and sat down on the ground.

Damien walked into her, his leg brushing up against her curled body. "What is it?" he asked, and Sholeh was unable to detect any emotion in his voice.

"I can't see," she replied, unpleasantly surprised at how terrified she sounded. In her mind's eye, Sholeh could just picture Damien's condescending smirk.

"Well, it is dark," the spirit said sarcastically. Sholeh felt an ember of anger flare up inside her, but it was not enough to vanquish her fears.

"No, I have perfect vision in the dark. This isn't normal." She noted with relief that her voice was once again strong.

Damien sighed. "You're right," he replied after a moment. "This isn't normal darkness. But come on," he said exasperatedly, grabbing Sholeh's hand and pulling her up. She hit her head on the ceiling, swore and pushed Damien away from her, hard.

"Don't touch me," she said fiercely. Well and truly angry once more, her panic vanished. Sholeh began to walk down the corridor again, and could hear Damien chuckle behind her.

"There's really no need for violence," the spirit drawled.

"Look," she snarled furiously, "I may not be able to burn you, but I would bet that my knife could pierce your skin like any other person."

There was silence, and Sholeh thought for a moment that he had left her alone in the darkness. Finally, the spirit whispered, "That's what I'm counting on."

"What?" Sholeh asked, but then a light began to appear in the distance. She heaved a sigh of relief and began to run towards the end of the tunnel, forgetting completely Damien's comment. Finally, Sholeh emerged into the blinding light, and blinked groggily several times. When she could see once more, the girl stared at her surroundings. She was in a small room with plain green wallpaper, brown wooden floors, which smelled faintly of tree sap and alcohol. There were no windows, and it was sparsely furnished, with only a cot, heavy oak desk, and chair covered in black velvet. However, every available space on the furniture was taken up, smothered in books, plates, papers, scrolls, strange pieces of metal, test tubes, chemistry equipment, flasks, and lights of any kind. Sholeh glanced around at the mess and could see at least twenty sources of light- desk lamps, floor lamps, candles, flashlights, candelabras, and two chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. She was also surprised to see a real stuffed vulture lying on Damien's bed, its glass eyes staring blankly at her and feathers scattered across the blanket. (AN: the vulture thing is actually important. cookies to anyone who can guess why it is!) An Erlenmeyer flask filled with a strange black liquid bubbled softly from the corner, boiling over a Bunsen burner, but otherwise the room was entirely silent as Sholeh gaped in confusion.

"You really like light," she finally said. Damien scoffed in reply. "What did you want to show me?" the girl asked, her voice harsher this time as she remembered whom she was speaking to.

"This," the demon-boy replied as he crossed the room, taking care not to step on the mess that covered the floor. He swept off the table a pile of papers covered in strange writing and spotted with something that looked like blood. Damien picked up a test tube sealed with black wax and filled with a swirling golden-white mixture.

"What is that?" she asked, as the spirit stared adoringly, amazedly at the liquid. It seemed to glow unnaturally, shining more than any of the lamps in the room. He turned it over a few times in his hand before replying.

"Light," he said quietly, his voice melodious and distant. "Liquid light. Not even Athena herself has figured out how to bottle light." His voice was proud, but with a touch of sadness in it as well.

"So? Is that what you brought me here for?" Sholeh asked angrily. I can't believe I agreed to come with him, she thought, what was I thinking? "What the Hades has that got to do with me?"

"Give me your dagger," Damien commanding, and his arm shot out to pry it from her hand. Sholeh stepped lightly to the side and grabbed the spirit's wrist, twisting his arm backward. He gasped in pain and fell to his knees as Sholeh pulled his arm further still.

"I told you," she growled. "Don't touch me." She met Damien's eyes, but saw no fear in his eyes. No pain. No anger or frustration or hatred of her. Only sadness was there in the blackness. Sholeh let him go disgustedly, and handed him the dagger of Prometheus, surprising even herself.

Damien got to his feet and used the knife to open the wax seal of the tube. He then slowly poured the light onto the dagger, taking care to cover the entire blade. Sholeh gaped angrily at the sight.

"What are you doing?" she finally exclaimed furiously. He had probably ruined it, this blade that had got her through so many fights, had belonged to Prometheus and then to her, that she had gotten as a gift from her father but ended up as so much more. A stack of books on the desk suddenly caught on fire. Damien handed the dagger hurriedly back to her, still dripping with light, and fought to put the fire out.

"Do you know how valuable those books are?" he said exasperatedly, cradling one that had its cover reduced to ashes, after he had put out the sudden flames.

"Sorry," Sholeh replied grudgingly. "Didn't mean to. But what in the name of the River Phlegethon was that for?" (AN: Phlegethon is the river of fire supposedly in Tartarus. As you hopefully have figured out by now, Sholeh likes fire, and is a daughter of Hades, so I thought maybe she would swear by this river.) The girl stared down unhappily at the dagger, but was shocked to see that it was now exactly the same as before. Exactly the same, but it now shone from within, and she was mesmerized by its unnatural glow. Every bit of the metal blade seemed to pour out light, pure light, brighter than if it had even come from the sun. The usually brilliant rubies inlaid in its handle seemed dull as sand in comparison.

"Now it is truly the dagger of Prometheus," Damien replied, staring at the metal also, but desperately, hopefully, as if somehow this knife could bring him salvation. "It is now made of light. And worthy of you."

Sholeh glared at him and shook her head. "Don't you dare say that," she ordered furiously. Who was he? Who was this spirit to say that? Somehow, that one phrase seemed more dangerous than any armed adversary. "I'm a daughter of darkness," she continued, backing away from Damien. "Not light."

"You know nothing of darkness," the demon spat, suddenly furious. His hand flew suddenly to his neck, where it grasped the black chain links encircling it there. Sholeh could see him clutching the obsidian links so hard that his knuckles stood out and turned white. "Nothing. Now, go." The boy waved his hand and suddenly the room spun. Sholeh cried out in anger, but all at once she was in her bed, the room dark and exactly how she had left it. There was no hidden door in the wall, no demon. The only light was from the dagger she held, an eerie reminder of her night. Sholeh gasped and lay back in bed, exhausted. Although she couldn't forget the spirit or the questions clouding her mind, she fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Leo sighed and drummed his fingers against the wooden desk. The pen held in his hand fell to the ground as he ran his fingers through his hair. The journal of music paper in front of him lay blank. No notes had come to his mind since that day over a year ago, when he had fallen to a son of Ares' arrow. Not a single melody or idea- until today. When he had held Sholeh in his arms, cradled her against him, and heard her laugh, he had felt the beginnings of new music, more epic in scope than anything he had written before. The emotion it inspired within Leo was like dawn breaking; the first beautiful new morning in an eternity. Life was beginning again.

But then they had parted, and the melody faded from his mind, crumbling away, and he was left in the dark without her. Leo sighed again. The music had seemed so clear, so illuminated. There had been a bassoon, and then the cellos… or was it double bass? No, then the violins came in with melody, but what exactly had the melody been? Leo tried to remember, his patience wearing thin. Finally he slammed his fist down on the table in frustration. He hadn't slept all night, trying in vain to remember, and now it was almost day.

Suddenly there came a noise through the wall. A wrenching sob, a scream that rent his heart to shreds. "Sholeh!" Leo yelled in panic. Please, gods, please. Father Apollo, don't let anything have happened—

And then there she was in his doorway. Her black hair was tangled around her face, obscuring it from his sight, and her entire body was taut with fear. "Sholeh, what's wrong, please," he begged, standing. Suddenly Leo saw with a jolt that she was crying. There was something so profoundly wrong, so disturbing about the girl's tears- Leo had never, ever seen her cry before, and would have given anything to never see it again. Sholeh's mouth opened a little, and she drew in breath, a harsh intake, and her body swayed. The daughter of Hades and Hestia ran to Leo, crashing against him. And then she began to sob, her tears cold and wet on Leo's plain white shirt, seeping through to his skin.

"Sssh, firegirl," the boy hushed, stroking her hair. He yelped when it suddenly radiated heat, becoming white with fire. And then she whimpered once more, and the fire in her raven hair was extinguished. Leo hugged Sholeh closer to his body, trying in vain to comfort her.

Finally she spoke, a watery gulping noise, "The dream again, I had the dream again."

"What dream, Sholeh?" Leo asked anxiously. She took a shuddering breath and continued.

"It was Kronos again, same as when I killed him. I see it every night, every single night. That Titan's death," she spat, her voice becoming angry. "I've killed monsters, I've killed humans, for Phlegethon's sake, but I see it every night. Kronos."

"Sholeh, its alright now, its alright. He's gone. He can't hurt you."

Sholeh spoke again, her voice stronger, though her body quaked in Leo's strong hold. "But this time…. This time." She sobbed once more, her mind racked with pain from the tormenting memory. "I saw it. His death. Before, I just blacked out. Even when I killed him… I had no idea what I was doing. I just did it. But now," Sholeh paused, and grasped Leo's shirt for support. Her mind was spinning. "I saw. His body, his flesh, the blood…. The blood. It was black," she continued, her voice becoming shrill with terror. "And my hair… Oh gods. Oh gods. The blood, it was everywhere, it was spurting, and it was black. It was on me, on my face, on my head." Leo felt a chill run up his spine. Suddenly Sholeh pulled back, her eyes rolling in fear. Seeing a pair of scissor lying on the desk, which Leo had tried to use to break the lock of a trunk in his room, she grabbed them in mania.

"Stop, no, Sholeh, don't!" Leo yelled, too panic stricken to move. The girl tugged on a thick lock of her hair, brought the scissors up and cut it, right at the level of her eyes. She grabbed another bunch to cut off at the roots, but Leo ran and grabbed her arm, taking the scissors and throwing them away. Sholeh screamed in anger, but the boy pulled her to the ground with him, and cradled her in his arms.

She began to cry again, saying over and over, "Its his blood, Leo, his blood." He wiped the tears from her face and held her small, callused hands in his. Finally, she hiccupped and abruptly stopped weeping.

"Please, please, Sholeh, it's going to be alright, I promise." Leo stared into her sad dark eyes, red around the edges from the tears.

"No, Leo, its not. I'm not human," she protested, her voice quiet and resigned.

"You're more than human, you're greater than any human," Leo replied, softer still.

"I'm less than human. I made Kronos suffer, he begged for mercy. Him, and so many others. I gave them none," she spat, disgusted with herself. "I'm becoming something different, Leo. Something you and I don't know, but so much less than a soul," she whispered, closing her eyes. Leo kissed her, salty tears clinging to his lips when he pulled away.

"I'll love whatever you become."

* * *

Aw. Chapter title comes from Mozart's Requiem: Lacrimosa, which I listened to while writing this. That, and the last line of the chapter. Thanks bunches for reading, you guys!


	11. Never Coming Home

So yeah, hey to all you people out there. Sorry that this took way longer than planned- I was reveling in the two days of school I had off. I love holidays (especially the ones I don't actually celebrate.) :P

Also, this chapter is pretty short. Sincere apologies for that, but I wanted to make it short. It was a conscious decision, really! Really! So anyway, its mostly character reflection. Whoops. I wrote this at 11 PM, so also sorry in advance if it rambles.

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Leo couldn't move, paralyzed by the feeling which pervaded his soul, the premonition of something about to happen; a miracle or disaster, he couldn't know. Sholeh breathed quietly in his arms, her eyelids fluttering slightly, though closed. The boy stared at the pale blue veins under the arch of her eyebrows, so delicate and yet so strong, like the striated surface of marble or granite. Suddenly, Leo realized that she was asleep, and wondered curiously of what, of whom she dreamed. It could not be Kronos, for she was so peaceful. He smiled at the girl, and moved her slightly to free his leg that was tingling unpleasantly from the lack of circulation. Did she dream of him? Or did the fears that haunted her during day do so at night? Leo hoped desperately for the latter: if she dreamed of himself, then she would be destroyed by what he knew was coming. Hades would never release him; Leo realized suddenly that there would be no escape. Not even Sholeh the Titan-slayer could reverse death.

But he had to keep hope, he reminded himself, for her sake. And then Leo could hear, so clearly, the notes rising in his mind. Jumping and crackling like a fire in sparkling bursts of energy. His hands itched for a pencil and staff paper to write the melody down, but Leo was loath to disturb the sleeping Sholeh. The son of Apollo closed his eyes, clutched the girl closer to his chest, and allowed the inferno of music to engulf him.

* * *

Hours later, Sholeh stood in Hades' central throne room. The lord of the dead was conspicuously missing, and his daughter sighed, irritated. She grasped Leo's hand tighter and turned to him. The boy smiled, his chocolate eyes lighting up when he met her dark blue ones. Sholeh had awoken to the selfsame gaze earlier that morning, and had immediately known what she had to do. Waiting was torture; there could be no more of it. So she and Leo had somehow wandered down to the main throne room and waited for her father to appear. She simply had to confront Hades and end this spectral imitation of life.

That's all death really was, she thought absently. Not a brick wall, but a kind of semi-permeable membrane- that's the barrier you crossed. Death itself was a tawdry simulation of existence. She had seen Elysium, and the Fields of Asphodel, and Tartarus. Perhaps her father had tried to make the afterlife like real life, because reality was what he wished so bitterly to rule over. In doing so, he had cut out those little departments, the separate places one could go. It was the only way he could keep order, really: without the driving force of fate that was omnipresent in life, but completely missing in death, what else was there to keep chaos at bay? Sholeh shook her head to clear away her musings.

Hades suddenly appeared in his throne, huge, graceful, and dangerous as a panther. Sholeh stared challengingly at her father, as the Lord of the Dead silently appraised her. "We need to talk," she said, her voice strong and defiant.

"Yes," Hades replied, and raised his hand deliberately, pointing to the door from which Sholeh and Leo had come. "He has to go."

Sholeh affectionately clasped Leo's hand tighter for a moment and then dropped it suddenly, as if she were disgusted by the boy's presence. "Leo," she commanded, not needing to finish the order. Sensing that some fatal and determining force was about to come into play, Leo strode out the door, pausing only to look into Sholeh's eyes again. The laughter that he saw so often within them was gone, replaced by a burning, ardent flame. She nodded curtly to him, her body tense and sharp as a military leader. He left, and the room was dark.

"Father," Sholeh said quietly, scared by the echoing crack the door caused when Leo slammed it. She tried to cling to the noise, memorize it, so that she could remember him. And she was afraid that she needed to hear a noise to remember him.

"You want his life, do you not?" the Lord of the Dead asked suddenly, his voice resounding with raw power.

"Yes." Sholeh screamed the word over and over in her mind.

"As I have told you before, the scales of death are a delicate balance. Once someone dies, they must readjust. And if you want him back, these scales must keep equilibrium." Hades leaned forward in his seat.

"What are you saying…?" Sholeh began. Her throat suddenly felt disturbingly dry. Flames licked the obsidian floor beneath her when the idea sprung to her mind. "But Orpheus… you gave him the chance. You said if he just didn't look back, that Eurydice could live." Sholeh looked up from the floor to gaze into Hades' eyes. They were devoid of all emotion, all mercy, all humanity. "Please, Father," she begged, her voice wrenched with unshed tears, "If ever you loved me, if ever I pleased you, brought glory to the name Hadeva," Sholeh swallowed the hateful word, "Give me the same task you gave Orpheus. Give me the same task."

"No." Hades' proclamation was a gunshot and Sholeh screwed her eyes shut in pain. "Orpheus was never given a chance. I knew that he couldn't succeed. By the nature of the very task, he never had a chance. I didn't even bring Eurydice from the Fields of Asphodel; what he saw was only a phantasm. Death had to maintain its balance." (_AN: see bottom of the page for explanation of this; i can't figure out how to put a footnote in.)_

"What must I do?" Sholeh asked after a pause. Doubt was gone from her mind; she would pay the price; any price, because the loss was much too dear to her. All that remained was fiery determination.

"A life for a life," Hades intoned coldly. The black walls sparkled in response. "Your life for his. You stay with me forever. Here, in the Underworld. I can make you Lady of the Inferno." Sholeh gasped in agony, but her father already knew her answer. "There will be a ball in two days to celebrate your permanent move here."

"No, no," Sholeh begged, her voice breaking in time with her heart. She fell to her knees in prayer, invoking all the gods to help her, but the only god with authority now was sitting before her. Suddenly a memory was imprinted for a brief moment before her eyes: it was Leo lying lifeless, pale, and broken upon the ground. And then, it was his smile and Sholeh Prometheus was defeated. "Don't tell him," she said, between sobs, shedding tears for her own death. "Say that we'll both live." She could see from beneath the nimbus of her black hair that her father leaned back, smug and bowed his head.

"Why?" she cried. What will it feel like to die? To stay here for all eternity? Like falling asleep? Or a great journey, like falling off the edge of the world? Will all the color fade for me, and my memories as well? Maybe to die will be the greatest adventure of all. Maybe it's better to burn out in a flame of glory than to fade away. I don't know. I couldn't live knowing that I had a chance to save him, and didn't take it. Even at the end of the world, I died for him.

I'm never coming home, Nico and Percy and Annabeth. Don't wait up for me.

* * *

AN/ footnote: So basically here I'm going with Phaedrus in Plato's Symposium. He says in it that Hades only "presented an apparition" to Orpheus of his wife Eurydice.


	12. Stygian Eyes

hello everybody!! and what a lovely Columbus Day it is!! (I really love those national holidays we get school off for, for no real reason)

* * *

Damien stared blankly at the maid, whose skeleton bones shook with fear. All the servants in Hades' palace were made only of bones, a ubiquitous reminder that you were in the Underworld. "And you mean to tell me," the demon said coldly, "that you broke this vase?" The skeleton clacked its teeth together, trying to speak, and frantically tried to put the broken pieces it held into the form of a vase. Damien sighed disgustedly and turned just in time to see a fiery figure running, head in hands, past the door. The demon pushed the skeleton servant out of the way, sprinted into the hallway, and yelled after Sholeh.

"Miss Hadeva!" Damien yelled in shock. The girl didn't stop, didn't even turn around or acknowledge him, and the demon ran after her. He grabbed her arm viciously, pulling her around to face him. "Miss Hadeva," he repeated, but the words died in his throat.

Sholeh was staring at him, her black hair tangled and upper lip curled up in a snarl like a feral animal. But something about the girl seemed disturbingly wrong, twisted. Her body was tense and angular, and Damien could feel the overpowering heat emanating from her as flames darted, violent and unpredictable, through her hair. Suddenly the spirit met her eyes and something rose in his throat, choking him. Damien gasped for air like a dying man.

Her eyes were black.

"Wha- what happened Miss Hadeva?" Damien asked, barely able to speak. She was glaring at him, but without a shred of humanity to her. Sholeh was animal-like, wild and uncontrollable; less than human. And yet, there was such incredible power to her, pure consummate energy that Damien thought for an instant that he was staring into the eyes of a god.

In response, Sholeh pushed the demon backwards. He slammed into the wall with such impetus it drove the breath from his lungs. "Sholeh," he gasped.

"Don't touch me. Don't speak to me. Stay away." Her voice echoed with crepitating energy. But then the black carpet on the floor lit on fire, and Sholeh sprinted away.

Sholeh collapsed on her bed. Her eyes were half open, drooping with exhaustion. Her mind was thick and murky, intoxicated by her own power. And yet it had robbed her of so much human strength, of her power to think. Sholeh heard a low wail suddenly, high and piercing and broken, not realizing that it was her own voice. Hades' command echoing in her mind, she fell asleep.

Sholeh awoke, gasping and afraid, an hour later from a terrible dream. A nightmare in which she saw Nico's screaming face crying out in agony, and then Leo's, his hair streaked and matted with blood. Percy and Annabeth looked on, their dream selves saying 'you could have stopped this, Sholeh. You could have saved them.'

Stumbling to the bathroom, Sholeh tripped over her dresser. She fell heavily, twisting her right wrist. The girl swore viciously and kicked the dresser, though she only succeeded in stubbing her toe. "Gods damn it," she whispered vehemently and began to bang on the dresser's surface. She picked up the ornate red and gold lamp and hurled it across the room. She heard the thud and satisfying crunch of broken glass as it hit the opposite wall and smiled. Then she turned back to the offending piece of furniture. "Teach you to trip me," she said angrily, not realizing that she was speaking to an inanimate object. The dresser lit on fire and the room was illuminated by its red hellish glow. Only then did Sholeh realize what she was destroyed.

"Oh Phlegethon," she swore and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a cup of water to put out the flames. "Why the Hades did I do that? My clothes are in there," she said aloud. Five cups of water furiously poured on the flaming dresser later, Sholeh staggered wearily into the bathroom once more. She splashed some water on her sooty, grimy face and then dried it. It was only then she noticed her own eyes. Sholeh stared in disbelief and fear at their completely dark orbs. The swirling blue nebula that had once been her iris was gone, hidden beneath absolute shining black. She sighed sadly, as if she had been expecting something like this and turned on the water just enough to create a fine stream of mist. Sholeh tossed in a drachma and spoke quietly, "O goddess, accept my offering. Camp Half Blood, Percy Jackson."

An image rose in the mist. It was Percy and Annabeth, standing outside the medical cabin, whispering to each other. Sholeh stared wonderingly at the familiar sight of camp, its trees in their perennial green leafy state, the peeling red paint on the cabin's door. Suddenly Percy noticed Sholeh's IM and yelled. "SHOLEH!" Annabeth saw the girl also and cried out with excitement.

"Hey guys," Sholeh said, trying to seem happy, a fake smile plastered on her face. Percy and Annabeth weren't fooled, however.

"What's wrong?" the daughter of Athena asked worriedly.

"Nothing," Sholeh answered angrily. "Nothing is freaking wrong." The two demigods were taken aback. Sholeh had been moody in the past, but now she seemed more depressed and dangerous than ever. The daughter of Hades and Hestia was staring at the ground, her hair a mess, and she was wearing a black military jacket with tight black pants draped with chains. "How's Nico?" she asked dispassionately.

"Did you find Leo?" Percy demanded, not answering her question.

"Yes. He's just the same as ever, you'll be happy to know." Sholeh sounded sarcastic and mocking, though she tried in vain to be sincere. "Now answer my question," she commanded loudly, "How is Nico?" Sholeh knew instinctively that he wasn't in the Underworld, though she couldn't know anymore than that.

"He's… well, he's," Annabeth began falteringly. For the first time, the demigod was actually afraid of Sholeh.

"Not so great," Percy finished, frowning unhappily. "Turns out the manticore got him with a direct hit. The poison's been affecting his heart, his lungs, everything. We've got all the Apollo kids taking care of him round the clock, but…" he trailed off. It was too painful for Percy to finish the sentence.

"Apollo's kids? What. The. Freaking. Hades," Sholeh growled. Percy and Annabeth stared uncertainly at the girl, confused by her reaction. "Get Apollo down there. NOW," she ordered. Percy could see the sparks flashing through her black hair and wished that the girl would look up, so he could meet her eyes, know that she was still human.

"What? We can't just order the god of the sun down here, Shol—" Annabeth began.

"I don't give a damn! I don't care if it's a little inconvenient for Apollo to get his ass down there and save my brother, or that it's a little uncomfortable for you to ask him. But I will not, never, let Nico die too," Sholeh screamed. She wanted to make them understand, make them do her will, make them save Nico. "You don't care, do you? You don't even care," she demanded disgustedly.

"I- I'm sorry, Sholeh," Annabeth stuttered. Percy's face grew red in anger.

"What the Hades, Sholeh? How dare you yell at us!" Percy bellowed at the girl. "How dare you yell at Annabeth! You don't know what we've been going through down here, what we've been doing. You think we aren't trying? You think we want him to die?" Sholeh looked up and stared at Percy in anger. A shock ran through his system at her black eyes, but he continued. Sholeh noticed, though she didn't register, the fact that a pool of water was beginning to form around Percy's feet. Tiny ripples turned into waves, and Annabeth could smell the salty ocean breeze coming from the boy beside her.

"We've been trying, Sholeh. We have been here, trying to save Nico's life. Where have you been?" the son of Poseidon finished furiously, viciously as he noticed the hurt in Sholeh's eyes.

"Where have I been, Percy?" she answered shrilly. "How… how could you…?"

"Yeah, that's right," he replied cruelly. "Nico is dying. He needs you…. Leo is dead. And for him, you're going to let your brother die alone--"

"SHUT UP!" Sholeh yelled, pulling on her hair manically. Annabeth and Percy both instinctively backed away, though Sholeh was in fact tens of thousands of miles away. Fire sprang up in the palm of her hand, leaping forward only to return to her skin, like a rabid animal trying to escape. "SHUT UP!" Suddenly, a chasm ripped open the earth below Percy and Annabeth. The two demigods jumped away, barely missing the hungry flames licking the fissure.

"Who are you?" Percy whispered, in fear of this girl who was so alarmingly different. She stared at him and cut the Iris Message to end it.

"Sholeh?" came a voice from her doorway. She rushed back into her bedroom to see Leo standing there, looking around the room in shock. She shook her head, gradually remembering who she was, why she was there, whom she would give up her life for. It all came rushing back, and Sholeh felt light headed very suddenly.

"Leo," she cried.

"Why is your lamp broken?" he asked suspiciously, one eyebrow raised. Sholeh smiled. "And why is your dresser all charred and stuff?"

"Um, it tripped me."

"The dresser tripped you? Firegirl, it's a piece of furniture," he said playfully. Sholeh stared at the ground so that he wouldn't notice her eyes. "You tripped over it, I think you mean." Sholeh nodded. "So, what, you decided to teach it a lesson? Did you light it on fire?" Leo asked, as if scolding a small child. Despite the situation, Sholeh began to grin.

"Basically," the girl replied sheepishly.

"Tsk tsk," said Leo, mock-chiding her. He took a few steps closer to Sholeh.

"It was a very bad dresser. Really mean," the girl protested, laughing.

"I'm sure," Leo replied carefully. There were a few moments of silence before Sholeh took a shuddering breath and spoke.

"I spoke to Hades." The grin vanished from both their faces. "He said…" Sholeh couldn't bear the way he looked at her. She continued haltingly. "He said that we can go. Both of us. But there's some party we need to go to first, in two days, but then… but then we're free, Leo." Sholeh felt a stabbing pain in her chest. She was lying. Lying to him, to Leo who always, always deserved the truth no matter what. "I've never lied to you, Sholeh, and I'm not about to start now." His words haunted her.

Sholeh looked up just in time to see Leo grab her in a fierce hug, and he was laughing. He was smiling, and saying her name, and kissing her face and hands and hair and neck. Leo lifted Sholeh up, off her feet, and she clutched him tighter. His hands were around her waist, his body pressed against hers, and the two of them were spinning, alone in the universe. "I've never lied to you Sholeh, and I'm not about to start now." Suddenly Sholeh felt sick.

"Sholeh, Sholeh, why are you crying?" he asked worriedly, the smile gone from his face. He put her down on the ground, and Sholeh stood alone, sobs racking her body. "Please, firegirl, why are you crying? Love, love, what's wrong?"

Finally the tears stopped coming. Sholeh felt dry and brittle, like a forest after a great fire, like she would never cry again. The pain in her chest grew. "Nothing, no, I'm just so happy," she heard herself say, and then she laughed. Leo smiled once more, and grabbed her hand.

"Come on," he cried ecstatically, "I've got something to show you." Leo pulled her, sprinting, out of the room and down the hallway, through a door she had never seen and into the most beautiful garden.

"Look, see," he said triumphantly. "I was wandering around, and I found it. It's Persephone's garden, I think," Leo whispered into her ear, and Sholeh stared in awe of the place. Huge plants grew, shining in the dark night, glowing and they sent up lights across the wall, as if they were underwater. Sholeh laughed and ran through it, forgetting everything in her childlike amusement. Leo watched happily as she touched the flowers gently, as dew from their stalks flicked into her hair. Finally Sholeh ran back to him and grabbed Leo's hand, dragging the laughing boy around the garden with her. He wrapped her in a warm embrace and she sighed contentedly, her eyelids closed and a soft smile on her lips.

Suddenly they heard a pounding coming from the door. Glancing at Leo, Sholeh giggled quietly and pulled him, sprinting, up a flight of stairs that led into a second garden. Leo began to laugh, and Sholeh silenced him, putting her finger on his lips. The two of them tripped over the steps, unable to remain quiet, and finally reached the upper garden. It was open on one side to the Underworld's night sky, the other sides protected by a high stonewall. The two demigods ran through the flowers, trying and failing in their attempts not to trample them. They both stopped before the open sky, staring out into the darkness, and feeling as if they were both alone, two solitary laughing figures standing in the night sky.

But it all came rushing back to Sholeh. They were not free, they had such precious little time left. Suddenly she was afraid, terribly afraid of dying, of being left in the Underworld alone for all eternity. Leo laughed, a joyous sound that reminded her inexplicably of sunlight streaming through a forest and of pure happiness. He kissed her, his lips giving her strength and fearlessness, washing away her wild terror with his simple touch. They broke apart, and Leo gazed into her eyes. She forgot that she had to look away, had to conceal them from him, and smiled back at him.

"Sholeh," he whispered slowly, "Your eyes… they're black." Leo felt a rush of emotion cloud his thoughts. Her beautiful blue eyes…

Sholeh looked away and entwined her hand with his. She had to leave, leave him before something went wrong, before she couldn't lie any longer and before fire took control. "Yes," she replied and kissed him passionately one last time before running down the stairs away from him, her footfalls echoing in the darkness.

"Wait, Sholeh!" Leo called back. She couldn't leave… why was she pulling away from him? Why… didn't she love him?

She stopped and turned around for a moment. "You're going to hate me, Leo," she whispered and rushed away again. Leo stood alone, his body taut and tall against the backdrop of a black sky, and sadness taking him once more.

* * *

poor sholeh and leo.

wasn't this a fast update? y'all should be proud. (oh, how i wish that i was southern.)


	13. Till You Drop Dead

does anybody know what happened to the 'Stats'? they disappeared... wah.

* * *

"You talked to her, didn't you?" Kitty, daughter of Apollo demanded accusingly, hands planted firmly on her hips. Annabeth and Percy turned to look at the girl, surprised since they hadn't believed anyone to be listening. After speaking with Sholeh through the Iris Message, the two demigods had gone to a clearing in the North Woods to talk, frightened because of what was happening to their friend.

Percy blinked rapidly. He hadn't noticed the hours go by, and now it was growing dark. But the daughter of Apollo remained, her large childlike blue eyes shining with her allegation. Annabeth sighed, hiccupping a little. She was still disturbed by how Sholeh had screamed, had unleashed her power on them. Kitty ordered them once more: "She Iris Messaged you. You spoke to her, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Percy asked with a yawn, though he knew exactly what she was talking about. Maybe Leo's half-sister would just leave if they refused to tell her anything. Inwardly, the son of Poseidon was angry that the girl who accused Sholeh of killing Leo would now be asking about his friend.

"Sholeh, of course," Kitty replied angrily. "Look, either you tell me, or I tell Chiron—"

"Why do you care?" Annabeth shot back furiously. Kitty looked taken aback, and her eyes widened even more.

The daughter of Apollo looked down at the ground, silent for a few moments. "I just want to know where my brother is," she whispered finally, her voice timid and very, very small in the huge expanse of trees around them.

Percy and Annabeth sighed at the same time. "We spoke to Sholeh," the boy said. "She's in the Underworld. She found Leo." Kitty looked up, beginning to smile but at the same time, not daring to, for fear they were wrong.

"She said that he's just the same as he was," added Annabeth quietly, her anger gone. Suddenly, Kitty's face fell.

"But what if he's already eaten the food of the Underworld?" she asked worriedly. "Persephone couldn't come home, remember, because she ate six pomegranate seeds. What if he—" the girl was unable to finish her sentence.

Percy frowned in response, before replying slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. "Right, but Hades is Sholeh's dad after all. But even without that, she can handle it."

"Well, I don't know, Percy… why was she so angry?" the daughter of Athena replied thoughtfully.

"Angry?" Kitty asked, feeling very much confused.

"Never mind," said Percy. "Just… don't worry about it. She'll bring him back," the boy continued determinedly, sounding much more sure of this fact than he actually was. Kitty nodded curtly, muttered something that sounded like 'Thanks' and ran off towards camp.

"Do you really think she can save him, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth asked after the daughter of Apollo had vanished from sight. The boy didn't reply, and all the two could hear was the rustling of trees, bare and naked without their leaves. Snow clung to the branches and blanketed the ground. Annabeth huddled closer to Percy, seeking warmth that her thin jacket couldn't give.

"Yeah, I guess" he replied indecisively. "She's powerful. My dad thought she should be made a goddess, y'know." Annabeth gaped at him.

"What?" Annabeth asked disbelievingly. "You never told me this!"

"Well, I… I just… I'm sorry. It was so soon after the final battle, and I just couldn't." Annabeth gulped. They shared everything. She had thought that their last fight over Luke's reappearance had only made the two of them stronger. Now, she just felt betrayed.

"You could have told _me_," she replied quietly, and Percy could see the hurt in her eyes.

"Annabeth, I'm sorry. But I wasn't ready… I mean, that wasn't all my dad said. There was other stuff too." Percy grasped her hand, surprised by how small it was. Annabeth was so strong, but her hand was like a child's compared to his. Percy smiled a little despite the situation.

"Can you tell me now?" Annabeth asked.

"Uhm… Yes," Percy decided. "Yes, I can. Well, after Sholeh defeated Kronos, and we all went up to Mount Olympus… Remember when my dad took me aside?" Annabeth nodded. After the defeat of the Titan Lord, Sholeh, Percy and she had been summoned to the gods' domain in New York City. They had been praised and rewarded with wreaths of laurel, following which there was a loud celebration of Kronos' defeat. Annabeth had danced with Percy once or twice, but mostly stayed with Sholeh, trying to comfort the sullen and depressed girl. About midway through the party, Poseidon had found Percy and taken him into a separate room- Annabeth had forgotten about it until now.

"Well, first he just said 'Congratulations' and 'Thanks' and stuff. But then… he mentioned that he thought Sholeh should be made into a goddess. Zeus and Hades didn't agree though, since they think she's too uncontrollable…" Percy's voice quieted. "And then my dad said that the Olympian Council would give me godhood, though."

Annabeth stared, and unconsciously clutched at Percy's hand tighter. Percy, a god? Her Seaweed Brain? Her best friend who loved blue food and couldn't keep the black hair out of his eyes? Her love, an all-powerful being?

"Wh-what?" she asked, suddenly feeling very dizzy. Her vision blurred momentarily.

"He said that I could become a god…" even Percy seemed surprised even now, wondering at the meaning of those words. But then the dreamy look in his eyes vanished, and the demigod continued. "I told him no, though."

"Why?" Annabeth asked loudly, now even more confused. Percy had passed up the opportunity of becoming a god, with the ability to control others, to live forever, never feel death's grasp… "Why, Percy?"

"I don't want to be a god," he replied simply. "I don't want to use people. I don't want to end up like them," he said, motioning towards the sky, "abandoning the ones they love because they can always have another. And I don't want to live when…" Percy paused, drawing in a long breath.

"Yes?" asked Annabeth quietly.

"I don't want to be around when you and Grover and Sholeh and Nico are gone. And I don't want to forget you, Wisegirl," Percy finished slowly.

"Ever?" the girl asked with a smile.

"Ever."

* * *

Kitty, daughter of Apollo was sitting in her cabin. It wasn't long after she had spoken to Percy and Annabeth, though she wasn't sure of how much time had passed. After returning to her cabin, the girl had furiously picked up a paintbrush and began to paint. The scene was filled with sharp, bold images and fierce colors. Kitty wasn't sure why she was so angry, but the frustration in her seemed to grow with every stroke of the brush and slash of acrylic. Maybe she wanted to be the one to save her half-brother. She felt entitled to the mission, certainly. Leo had been the closest thing she had to family; he had calmly taken her in, given her a bunk, a set of watercolors, and a smile when she arrived. And now, her brother was dead, and may be coming back, but she wouldn't be the one to do it.

Suddenly, Kitty dropped the paintbrush. Her throat constricted, as if crushed by an invisible hand, and her pupils dilated. The other children of Apollo all rushed to her, begging what was wrong, but she couldn't see or hear them. Kitty gasped, feeling something rise within her, a strong force, a foreign entity. And then the words were torn ragged from her lips, the sound harsh and grating.

_O light,__  
The generations of your children,__  
Justice, Art, Order  
And yes, the greatest of all:  
Truth.  
Now two are twisted, crashed, strangled by the god of darkness  
His lies are pulling them apart at the seams, two once one  
And the lies also of the daughter.  
A life for a life,  
Reciprocity conquers overweening pride!  
But whose life, whose?  
One, two, three shades of death  
There is nothing __we__ can do, no  
But glory comes to one, salvation to another, eternal peace to the last.  
We may count none blest._

Kitty collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Her siblings comforted her as hot tears streamed down her face, and she whimpered, "Thank you, father, thank you."

"What was that?" one of her half-brothers asked in wonder.

"Apollo has blessed her with the gift of prophecy," whispered the oldest reverently.

"You _cannot_ be serious," said Sholeh blankly. The girl was staring at a long pink gown with crystals encrusting a low neckline. The dress had a corset of lace, and puffed out in the fashion of an eighteenth century monarch. Persephone, who was holding the dress up, giggled girlishly.

"Isn't it just _wonderful_?" she asked happily, handing the gown to Sholeh. The demigod held the dress as far away as possible, as if it were a dangerous animal that could strike at any time. "You'll look so beautiful at the ball, you know. I'm sure that Lord Hades will simply adore it—"

"I'm not wearing this, this _thing_," Sholeh spat, and unable to describe the dress she found to be hideous, motioned frantically with her free arm, "It's… it's… I'll look like a pink, fluffy, lacy… _thing!_"

Leo chuckled from the corner. Somehow, Persephone had forced him to come see all the dresses Sholeh had to choose from for the ball. And so Leo sat lounging on a chair in the corner of the room, trying in vain not to laugh at Sholeh's reaction to the clothing she had to pick from. "I like it," he said jokingly, the left corner of his mouth turned upwards in a crooked, playful smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear pink, firegirl."

"That's because I hate the color with a burning passion," Sholeh snapped. This was getting ridiculous. Every dress she had been shown was frilly and looked like something out of a Disney movie- definitely not what she would wear.

"A _burning_ passion? Really?" asked the boy. "Well, you know what they say, there's a first time for everything. Maybe this is your time to wear a pink dress."

"Oh, shut up, Leo," Sholeh replied, through she grinned at him. The two had not yet spoken of the night before in Persephone's garden, awkwardly avoiding the subject, even trying to pretend that it hadn't happened. Both were inwardly terrified that the incident signaled the decline- of their adventures, their relationship, their lives spent together. There was so little time left. But they still had the hours of that day for forgetting. _Before the ball tonight, and then before Leo leaves me here,_ Sholeh reminded herself, _he has to leave. He must live, even if I won't. _

"Won't you even try it on?" Persephone asked hopefully.

"NO," stated Sholeh furiously, fists clenched in involuntary determination.

"Well, alright then," sighed Hades' wife. "How about this one?" She motioned to another dress; this one made of an airy, light blue fabric, that seemed to attract light.

"Try again," Sholeh replied, regarding the dress with a careful eye. In her opinion, any dress that glowed shouldn't be trusted. Why couldn't Persephone have found a black dress? Or better yet, why couldn't she just wear her own clothes? "This one's all shiny and weird."

"It's pretty!" protested Persephone, though her patience never once wore thin. Though she didn't want to admit it, Sholeh felt a strong affection for this woman. Unlike the other gods and goddesses, she didn't force anything on Sholeh. She was always calm, understanding and smiling. Deep down, Sholeh wished that she were more like Persephone. "And you like shiny things."

"I like shiny _jewels_," the girl replied. "But not on clothing… Please, isn't there anything else?" Sholeh asked. "Something that won't make me look like Cinderemma?"

"You mean Cinderella?" Leo asked, unable to keep himself from laughing. Sholeh glared.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Didn't you ever watch Disney movies as a kid?" Leo asked, getting up to stand by Sholeh. The two stared in the mirror at each other, smiles on both their faces. They still had some time…

"No," Sholeh replied simply. Suddenly, she began to grin so widely she seemed a little insane. "What, did you, Leo?"

"Yeah," Leo said, shaking his head in reminiscence. "Snow White, and Aladdin, and Beauty and the Beast, and Bambi… good times, good times. You missed out on childhood, firegirl."

"Sure," Sholeh replied slowly, unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Leo. Should I call you 'princess?'" she taunted playfully.

"Laugh all you want, but those movies are awesome!" Leo exclaimed. "First thing we do when we get back, we have a Disney movie marathon."

A wave of grief caught Sholeh, tossed her around, and the girl fought to keep a smile on her face. "No way," she replied sadly, "I've never seen any of those movies, and I'm not about to start now, thanks very much."

Leo didn't notice the note of melancholy in her voice. "Then I'll just have to chain you to the chair," he said mock-seriously, before grabbing the girl in a hug and bursting out into song. "I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid, tell me princess—"

Sholeh yelped, trying to escape from his grasp, but weakened with laughter. "No, no singing," she gasped between giggles.

"When did you last let your heart decide? I can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder—"

"No, Casanova, life is _not _a musical- how many times must I tell you?"

"Over sideways, and under, on a magic carpet ride… Wait, how do the lyrics go? A whole new world… something…. no one to tell us no, or where to go... something else...Damn, I forgot," Leo finished, grinning.

"You're unbelievable," commented Sholeh.

"I know, right?" the boy replied, and held Sholeh closer to him.

* * *

Did anyone else's 'Stats' page disappear? mine did. what the heck...?


	14. Inebriated

Leo tugged nervously at the stiff collar of his tuxedo. Somehow, Persephone had convinced him to wear a black suit, but now he was twice as uncomfortable as he would be dressed in his own clothes. Furthermore, Sholeh was conspicuously missing from the gathering and Leo had ended up caught in conversation with one of the guests (who was a ghost, Leo guessed, from his transparency and the silvery outline around him). The demigod wasn't really listening to the ghost, but nodded every once and a while, sometimes saying noncommittal phrases like, 'Yes, yes, you're right,' and 'Mm, of course.' He scanned the room subtly; trying not to show his boredom and indifference.

Leo had never been to an Olympian party, but if he had, he would have noticed that Hades' gathering was an obvious opposite. When at Olympus, the songs were different for each listener, and exactly what they wanted to hear, in the Underworld Mozart's Requiem was played by an invisible orchestra, its tempo slowed to a wandering, tragic pace. The guests weren't happy, celebrating gods but skeletons and ghosts, and while some of them had distinct personalities (like the one Leo was talking to, who was interested in molecular physics), most of the dead just wandered around slack-jawed and dead-eyed. There was a refreshments table covered in cobwebs upon which a bowl of punch sat, though when Leo had gotten a glass, it seemed to have the consistency and taste of red glue rather than actual punch. Next to it sat a single ancient bottle of Russian vodka, though it hadn't been touched. A few candelabra placed in the center of the floor lit the entire ballroom, so that the guests sitting or talking on the outskirts closer to the wall became progressively darker and more sinister looking. Leo now stood next to a Greek column, a circle of which held the roof up, but it didn't seem to be made of marble but instead of bone. Hades presided over the entire affair from his throne across the room, while Persephone welcomed guests in her usual unassuming way.

Suddenly Leo caught a glimpse of black hair against the palest skin across the room. "Um, excuse me," he muttered to the ghost, who looked outraged as the demigod pushed through him to dive into the crowd. "Sorry, sorry," Leo said to the masses of other guests as he searched frantically. "Sholeh!" he called, finally finding her in the center of the room by the candles. She looked up at him and the candles' fire burned furiously, leaping up, her recognition merging with the flames. Their glow was reflected in her black eyes, the contrast shocking Leo once again.

"Leo," she said quietly and the candles' flares danced higher. "Enjoying the party?" she asked in a falsely bright voice. Leo frowned a little, his expressive eyes narrowing.

"Not really," he said, taking a couple steps closer to her. Leo took in the girl's appearance fully, the fire casting half the left side of her body into shadow. Sholeh wore a short red velvet dress with an oversized bow tied around the waistline in front. The dress had been designed for a child, but somehow its exaggerated innocence made Sholeh look strangely adult and suggestive.

"This was the only halfway decent option," she grumbled, noticing his stare. "I wish I could just take the bow off, though," the girl finished, tugging a little at the offending loop of fabric, and stepped awkwardly towards Leo.

"At least, its not pink, right?" he replied with a smile. Sholeh nodded a little, and Leo continued jokingly, "That would have been simply unacceptable."

Sholeh started to agree with him, and then grinned. "You're being sarcastic, aren't you?" She laughed raucously. "And yes, pink _is_ unacceptable. I _refuse_ to wear pink."

"Alright, firegirl," Leo replied, taking her arm. Suddenly he realized something strange. "Hey, you're almost the same height as I am! Did you grow like three inches overnight, or did I just shrink?" he asked, puzzled.

In response, Sholeh lifted up her left leg in front of her, showing the black high heels she wore. "Smart, Leo," she joked. "They're two and a half inches, and walking in these all night is going to be Hades. And so you're still an inch taller than I am, Casanova."

"Oh," he replied sheepishly. "And I guess that I really have no chance of getting rid of that nickname."

"Mm, not really," Sholeh said after a moment's hesitation. _Well, don't worry, Leo,_ she thought, _I won't be around much longer to call you that.  
_

The two of them began to walk around the room, slowly and awkwardly, not knowing what they should do. Suddenly, a woman approached them. She moved with the self-assurance of one who knows that she is beautiful, and her long silvery-blue gown fell in waves around her. "Hello, you must be Sholeh and Leo," the demon said, though her eyes were looking just above both of their heads. "You must be Sholeh and Leo, Sholeh and Leo," she repeated.

"Yes," replied Sholeh defiantly, hostile without a particular reason. Something about the ghost reminded her of someone…

"A beautiful party, is it not?" the woman asked distractedly. "I've always loved parties. Parties I've always loved. A long time ago, the sun invited me to a party. Not your sun, you see, the first sun. It was a very long time ago. A beautiful party, is it not?"

Sholeh and Leo stared distrustfully at the woman. She spoke in an offhand way, careless and breezy, the way one was supposed to speak at parties to people you didn't know; the tone of pleasant small talk. And yet her sentences made no sense to them, and she never looked them in the eyes.

"Ohh-kay," Leo breathed quietly, taking a step backwards, pulling Sholeh with him.

"Don't move," the woman commanded, suddenly leering down at them. Sholeh suddenly realized who the demon reminded her of. She had that same mystery and ancient power as Damien. "Stop what you're both thinking, you can't escape. Trust me, put your confidence in me, have faith in me. I know; no one runs away from death, girl."

The demon woman relaxed and stood upright again. "Well, it's been very lovely talking to you. Lovely speaking with you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to find me. My name is Eurynome. I'm Eurynome. Allow me to introduce myself, Eurynome is my name. Don't wait, don't pause, don't delay, don't dilly-dally, don't get cold feet, don't hem and haw, don't…"

Leo and Sholeh ran away from the strange woman, escaping through the crowd. "What the Hades was that?" Sholeh asked breathlessly once they had lost her.

"I don't know," Leo whispered. He shivered, remembering the woman's glare, her repeated words, they way she rattled through synonyms as if she had forgotten which were still used in modern language.

"I think she's somehow connected to Damien… I think they're both demons," at the mention of the boy-demon Leo stiffened. The two demigods heard a slow song playing in the background, a rolling piano line and a sad voice careening through their minds.

"Dance with me," Leo ordered her. Surprised, Sholeh awkwardly put her arms around Leo's neck. His hands rested on her hips as the two of them slowly revolved on the spot; a shy, graceful dance. Sholeh felt suddenly giddy and fought the urge to laugh as he moved closer, their bodies moving together cautiously at first, then more indulgently.

"We'll be free soon, firegirl," he whispered in her ear, and Sholeh was brought back down to earth with a jolt, remembering the heart-breaking truth. They would never be free- not together, at least. Freedom was a strange kind of principle afforded only to those who had nothing to lose. Sholeh had everything to lose- Percy, Annabeth, Nico, her memories of Camp Half Blood, her life, and finally, Leo. And Leo was not something that she could sacrifice for freedom; there would always be that strange reciprocity, that give and take that made her thoughts such a torture.

"Yes, Leo," she whispered back, praying silently that Leo would forgive her someday for what she would do. What she had done already, really, because there was no turning back. The two of them danced in the center of the room, the candles casting up their shadows against the wall. And Sholeh saw her own shadow, so tall and strong, determinedly shrouding others in darkness- she hoped that maybe she herself seemed that way to others.

"What did you mean?" Leo asked, his breath soft and comforting on her neck.

"What?"

"In Persephone's garden. You said that I would hate you. What did you mean?" Sholeh could tell that Leo wanted to lean back, to look her in the eyes, but she pulled him closer.

"Nothing."

Leo nodded his head slowly, as if telling himself to forget the matter. The two demigods danced for some time, both trying in vain to leave behind their thoughts.

* * *

Someone tapped Sholeh on the shoulder. She reluctantly turned around, forsaking Leo's warmth, to meet Damien's eyes. Leo's arms tightened around her in response to the demon's appearance. Damien opened his mouth as if about to whistle, but then licked his lips and spoke. "Will you give me the pleasure of this dance?" he asked.

Sholeh stared at his outstretched hand and then into his widened, dark, eyes. For a moment there, she believed she could see an emotion in them that she knew all too well, and Sholeh Prometheus replied, "Yes."

She couldn't bear to look into Leo's eyes, and he disappeared, wounded and furious, into the crowd. Damien and Sholeh stood silently for a moment before he put his arms around her, staying a good distance away, unlike Leo, and they danced. Sholeh could hear Leo break someone's glass against the floor, and she winced, wishing she could apologize. But it had been too much to be in Leo's presence, knowing that they had so little time left. Now it was most certainly just as much pain, being away from him.

"He's very angry at me, you know," Damien said. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Sholeh was surprised to hear no condescension, no disdainful notes in his voice, only a natural sort of friendliness. "It's fine," she replied. "Though I don't know why I said yes," Sholeh continued aloud to herself.

"You can leave, if you want," Damien said quietly, looking away to hide his hurt.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Sholeh said, drawing back a little. "I just meant that I—I don't know." She gulped, though her throat still felt dry. "Sorry," the girl added.

"It's fine," the demon answered, though his voice sounded forced and a little resentful now. "I don't know why I asked you. You aren't who I thought you were."

"What are you talking about?" Sholeh asked, pulling away, and her voice rose above a volume that was generally considered polite.

"It's nothing," he muttered.

"Tell me!" Sholeh yelled, and the candle's fire leaped up rabidly, crawling down to the floor and growing, lunging like a predatory animal. The girl swore and motioned for the fire to stop. "Gods, I hate this. I can't control it…" Sholeh whispered, feeling that same emotion she had experienced so many times before. The pain when she forgot herself and fell from all grace to the depths of self-loathing.

"Oh, come on, Sholeh," Damien growled. "Don't tell me you actually believe that."

"What do you mean?" the girl snapped at him, then afraid of her anger, ran out of the room. She had seen Leo across the room, staring at her with such an intense emotion and she could not tell if it was jealousy or simply hatred. She rushed headlong into the hallway, cradling her head in her hands, and leaned up against the cool stone wall. As fury threatened to consume her, Sholeh ground her knuckles viciously against the sharply uneven wall.

"You actually believe that, don't you?" came Damien's voice, full of all its usual pride and patronizing lilt. "Don't you?"

"What? That I hate destroying everything I love, yes I do hate it!" she snarled, not looking at the demon.

"No, you don't," he returned angrily. "I used to think you hated it. You don't. You adore that power. Being able to—"

"Shut up!" Sholeh screamed and tried to run away, but Damien grabbed her wrist.

"You love it! You love being able to control people, scaring them through fire. You're just like your father," he yelled, his lips drooping arrogantly and nostrils flaring in disgust.

"Don't. You. Dare say _that_!" Sholeh shrieked, fighting to escape but his grip was viselike and freezing around her wrist.

"What, afraid of hearing the truth? But you're a liar, Sholeh, you lied to your little boyfriend, didn't you? So why should you give a _damn_ about the truth? About destiny? And _salvation_?" the demon yelled back, and Sholeh was startled and sickened as his skin seemed to turn a blue-black in color. His face, his hands, every part of him was becoming the color of a fresh bruise.

"Let me go!" she yelled and tried to call the fire, but it wouldn't come to her.

"The truth is that you are what you are. And the worst is that I believed you were different." Damien's voice was suddenly, alarmingly, a whisper.

"I am different," Sholeh shot back, though she sounded like a lost child. Terror for her own humanity rose within her mind, poisoning and stopping the flow of thought. He was right, so, so, maddeningly right. Everyone could see that Sholeh was her own worst enemy- everyone except Leo perhaps.

"Give me a reason to believe it. I thought you would be the one to save me, Prometheus, " Damien whispered back, his usually smooth voice now sinister and oily. His gaze burned like ice, stirring a strange sense of desperation in Sholeh before releasing her. She fell the ground, but scrambled away, hurtling blindly to the solace of her room. The hallway was consumed suddenly by raging fire, but Damien had already disappeared.

Sholeh collapsed in the center of her room, head sagging forward with exhaustion, eyes cast downwards, and hands outstretched upwards in surrender. _Nothing was supposed to happen like this_, Sholeh thought. _I was supposed to suffer through today in silence. And this, this was supposed to be a noble sacrifice, a necessary one, the consequence of Leo's death and my unrelenting love. But now… I'm some animal._ Sholeh stared at the ground, unable to cry, though the pain in her chest, like a rib or major organ breaking, was excruciating.

* * *

Hours later, she was still in the same place on the floor, in a kind of half-sleep, when the door swung open and hit the wall with a _crack_. Sholeh's head jolted upwards to see Leo leaning against the door frame, his mouth open and eyes unfocused. His suitcoat was gone and his starched collar was now falling down carelessly.

"Hullo, f-f, what do I call ya?" the boy stammered, his words slurred together. Leo took an uneven faltering step forward. "Firegirl," he finally said after a moment of intense thought, but the nickname was mocking.

"Leo?" Sholeh asked sharply, furiously. "What's wrong? What the Hades is wrong with you?"

Leo took another step and almost fell. He chuckled stupidly before replying slowly, "S'nothing. S'nothing's wrong with me, Sho-lee, light of my life." Sholeh felt another jab of pain when he mispronounced her name. It seemed to her that Hades, Kronos, the fates were laughing in her face, jeering through Leo's inebriated body.

"Leo, are— are you _drunk_?" Sholeh asked with a gasp. "What the frigging Hades is going on?"

The demigod laughed scornfully, and almost fell over again. "Ha, am I drunk?" Leo grabbed the dresser for support as the devastated Sholeh looked on. Suddenly he stared down at her with strange intensity, so different from his previously unfocused and glazed eyesight. "So what if I'm drunk?" he asked viciously. "S'what? It doesn' matter anyway. Nothing matters," Leo continued, his eyes staring upward as if in prayer. "Nothing."

Sholeh caught sight of something on his face, something red. "Is that lipstick on your cheek, Leo?" she challenged him, eyebrows knit together in suspicion.

Leo giggled eerily at the question. "Maybe. So what? S'not my fault. S'not my fault girls like me. They've always liked me. Sometimes I've liked them. But you—" he said scoldingly, shaking his finger at her like a demented schoolteacher, "You beat them all. You beat 'em, all right."

Sholeh only stared at him, too paralyzed by a mixture of emotions—resentment, hopelessness, self-loathing, jealousy, desperation—to move. "You know it. And you think you're so damn great, that you've caught me, you have me in the... the... palm of your hand," he stuttered, searching for words. "Palm of your hand. Like hell. Like hell you do. I mean," he chuckled a little here, "Like Hades. That's it."

"What are you _talking about_?" she screamed, standing up out of desperation. She suddenly felt a crazy desire to break something, to destroy it out of her own anger. She grabbed the empty picture frame off her desk and threw it on the ground, taking a peculiar satisfaction in the shatter of glass, and in the shards clinging to her white stockings.

"You were dancing too close to him," Leo stated furiously. "Too damn close. I don' like it, I'll tell ya right now."

"You have some other girl's lipstick on your face and you say that I was _dancing_ too close to him?" Sholeh yelled angrily. "You filthy--" She couldn't finish the sentence, because Leo by any definition was not what she wanted to call him.

"Take that dress off," Leo commanded her, staring with revulsion at her clothing. "_He's_ touched it. I don't even wanna look at it."

Sholeh glared furiously and sparks began to play through her sable hair, but she stormed into the bathroom and pulled off the red dress, putting on instead a black nightgown she had found in the cabinet.

"I can't believe you," she shrieked at him, once back in the room. "I can't believe myself." The girl walked to the window overlooking the entire Underworld. If only she could run, somehow get away from all this.

"ME?" Leo roared back. "What--- how could _you_? You shoved me away. Y-y-you betrayed me."

Sholeh turned to look at him over her shoulder and said deliberately, pridefully, and with a touch of arrogance, "You're not making any sense, Leo. And... I-I think you should leave."

"Wha-what?" Leo lunged for her arm, but deliberate motion seemed to be too much for him and he fell to the ground, pulling Sholeh down with him.

"Gods, what's _wrong_ with you?" she demanded, enraged .

The fall seemed to change something in Leo. "Please," he begged, and Sholeh moved closer, laying his head down in her lap, and stroking his hair detachedly. "Forgive me. Forgive me, Sholeh. Why don't you love me anymore?" he murmured.

The girl sighed and wanted very suddenly to cry, to run away from him. "I do love you, Leo. You don't even know. You _don't_ know," she repeated mournfully.

"Why?" Leo stared at her face, his mahogany eyes locked with her unnaturally black ones.

They sat silently, the stretch of time spreading out interminably before them, unsaid questions reverberating in their minds. Why was this happening? Why was everything falling apart so fast? Where there had once been one inseparable pair, there were now two truly confused individuals. Somewhere deep inside of her, Sholeh was glad of the fact because it might make parting a little easier. But then she looked into his swirling chestnut and hazel irises, and the pain came anyway.

After some time, Leo muttered something Sholeh couldn't hear, looking off into the distance as if he couldn't meet her eyes. Sholeh stared at him, puzzlement clearly written on her face, and he repeated the sentiment. "You're beautiful." Leo's words seemed a little more coherent.

Sholeh was taken aback. Beautiful? He had never so much as called her pretty, and moreover, she had never thought of herself as beautiful. The lines of her body were much too angular, she thought, the shadows beneath her eyes much too pronounced. And somehow, it would have been defeat to consider herself beautiful, an adjective used to describe Aphrodite or the supermodels whose pictures Travis and Connor hid under their bunk.

"What?" she asked softly.

Leo ignored her inquiry. "That's not why I love you, though."

"Why do you love me, Leo?" Sholeh asked, the question burning something inside her with an uncontrollable passion, the lust for an answer, because she felt that somehow it would be the answer for everything.

"I don't know. I don't, Sholeh. But I think I will once we leave here. Back in the sunlight, I think I'll know."

* * *

So there you have it, folks. What do you think? And please don't be too depressed! In the words of Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight: "The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming."

Also, a lot of stuff will make sense later on. AKA Eurynome the creepy lady, Damien turning blue and the stuff he said about 'salvation'.

ALSO, I HAVE A POLL ON MY PROFILE PAGE ABOUT THIS STORY. PLEASE VOTE?!!**  
**


	15. What light through yonder window breaks?

i may or may not have replied to your review... sorry. so a big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed!

ALSO, a big thank you to everyone who voted on the poll on my profile. Congratulations to all the Nico fangirls out there (okay, I'll admit it, I'm one too) because he lives!!! Yay! This is due primarily to the fact that 37% of you said that you would "cry and be angry with me" and another disturbing 25% percent said that you would "hunt me down and never rest until I had been punished." I'm a coward, what can I say

Yay! the line-break thing is working again!

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly, like a foal waking up for the first time. His entire body ached in response, screaming with the kind of pain he had never known before. The boy groaned and brought his hand up to his face, shielding it from the sun that sent daggers to his mind, stabbing him with light. He felt his chapped lips and burning forehead without understanding. Thoughts seemed to float lazily in his mind like oil in water, congealing for a moment before his eyes, and then melting back into anonymity. A girl with black hair and dangerous eyes, a strange goat-like creature, a sand dollar… The light of a new day set them on fire once more and then he couldn't remember anything.

Nico lay there in delirium and feverish incoherence, muttering strange phrases, his leaden tongue forming words as if chanting prayer. He was dying, he was going to Hades, because surely this was the pain of hell? There was no salvation, no cure, no choruses of hallelujah or constellations sparkling in the air like champagne bubbles. His eyes rolled back, straining to be free of their sockets, like a horse driven wild with colic.

But then there was an angel above him, strands of golden light catching in her hair. She was impossibly perfect, Nico thought, and so she could only be angel, the kind he'd heard a preacher describe once when he and Bianca slipped into a church for a safe place to stay the night. And then Nico felt his lips forced open by a spoon and he choked, body racked with coughs, and dribbled nectar onto the pillow. The warm liquid slipped down his throat nonetheless and Nico collapsed backwards as one who is exhausted past the remedy of sleep. But the angel kept him awake, her strange aura giving him energy.

He remembered the name of angel from long ago, and so Nico spoke her name-- "Annabeth." The name seemed so right for her and then Nico knew that Annabeth and the angel were one and the same. "Annabeth," he said again, savoring the name on his lips, pretending its sweet taste was that of Annabeth herself. Somewhere in his pyrexic brain, the word resounded, and like a gong sent shockwaves rattling through his system. Nico opened his eyes once more and pushed himself up, fearing his body (when had it become so frail?) would collapse. But he held out, gritting his teeth against the pain, and somehow sat upright. Nico stared into Annabeth's wide, amazed, and frightened eyes and their faces were so close together. He drowsily realized that all the pain was gone. Or was she just so much more important than his suffering?

"Oh my gods," she whispered in awe. Nico had been on his deathbed. And now…. Now he was awake, sitting up, and staring at her with such intensity. Slowly, Annabeth raised her hand to his forehead, touching his olive skin with incredulity: his skin was just warm to the touch, his fever on the retreat. His eyelids fluttered.

"My gods," Annabeth breathed again, finding it enough to bask in the light and this miracle. In the dawn's light, she could see every particle floating in the air, shining softly, and settling in Nico's black hair like dust. Suddenly she seemed to recognize what had happened, and called out. "Percy!"

Nico thought for a moment that this was ecstasy. Her cool, soft hand on his forehead, her skin bathed in the glow of morning. She called out, "Percy!" and Nico wondered torpidly about the word. _Perrh-see_, she said. The word seemed to him like a golden coin clinking against pavement, when Annabeth said it. What was this _perrh-see_? Annabeth spoke of it- it had to be something so exquisitely beautiful, so—

She called, "Percy!" again, louder and more urgent this time. Annabeth pulled her hand away from Nico's forehead just as a black-haired boy rushed into the room. The room spun in Nico's eyesight and everything came rushing back to him. A wave of jealousy, then guilt, and then another, almost foreign emotion- friendship? Percy Jackson.

"What's going on?" Percy asked frantically. "Is he OK--?" The son of Poseidon caught sight of Annabeth's smiling face and the fast recovering Nico. The girl leaped up and hugged Percy.

"Look, Seaweed Brain! Look, see!" she yelled joyfully. Nico couldn't help but laugh a little. Percy just stared at him in amazement.

"Nico..?" he asked cautiously. "How's this possible? What…? You're alright?" The son of the sea god seemed reluctant to believe the fact. Nico had been so far gone, and what if it was just an illusion?

"Yeah," Nico croaked, his voice sounding like a record ravaged by time, scratched and weak. He laughed at its ridiculous sound. Percy couldn't resist the temptation, and laughed too, his voice rolling in joy. He and Annabeth both lunged for Nico at the same time, smothering the son of Hades in a huge embrace and drowning him in laughter.

And with tears running down her face, Annabeth spoke after a few moments. "Thanks for coming back, Nico."

The boy couldn't reply to her question- his heart seemed much too big for itself, expanding into his throat and forcing his eyes to cloud with water. "Help me up," Nico said finally, gruffly.

"You can't get up, Nico, you just woke up!" Annabeth exclaimed.

"Yeah, you should probably take it easy for a while," Percy continued.

"No way. No way in Hades. Help me up!" the demigod insisted. He'd spent enough time in this tiny sickroom. Weeks maybe. He didn't know. All Nico knew was that it was stifling him, somehow poisoning his mind. He needed light, more light even than that streaming through his open window. "I just… I need to get out of this room."

"Alright," Percy finally conceded, and moved Nico's arm around his shoulder. Annabeth did the same on the other side, and the three of them heaved the tiny boy out of bed, his body so slight since his illness. Slowly, like a strange awkward six-legged animal, they moved toward the door. Nico grimaced with pain, and his hand shook as it reached for the knob, which glinted so tauntingly in the darkness. With the singular determination of a child, Nico grasped the handle and pushed the door open.

Sunlight surged through the room, conquering it, and Nico was blinded. He could smell the familiar strawberries, their sweet scent and the modest breeze caressing his skin. Slowly, he looked at Annabeth, then at Percy, his face serious as a man walking to his wedding, and the three friends took a first uncertain step into the outside.

Campers stopped dead in their tracks, seeing a boy supposed to be dying among them once more. Chiron galloped toward them. Mr. D accidentally knocked over his charred pinochle table. Crowds of people ran up to the three demigods, yelling at them, asking Nico questions. Aphrodite's children began giving the boy advice on how to get rid of his sickly skin tone. Even Beckendorf, who had been disturbingly indifferent since Silena's death, told Nico how great it was to have him back.

Finally, Nico was unable to contain his laughter anymore. The tiny boy raised his head upwards, gazing into the sun until its glare burned purple spots on his vision. "Thank you," he murmured.

* * *

Sholeh mumbled something in her sleep. No shafts of the dawn's light could be seen in the Underworld, and so she slept on through the morning. Her pillow was damp with the night's tears, and not even in slumber was she at peace. Sholeh tossed and turned, her black hair tangled in hopeless knots that no brush could solve.

"NO!" came a wrenching scream. It was the hopeless, desperate cry of feral, snarling, animal, knowing that he will never escape the hunter's trap, but trying anyway, throwing himself at the bars.

"NO! Let me go!" Leo screamed in terror. Sholeh jolted awake, her eyes wide, fearful, and yet determined. This was it, the last moments of her life… and the first moments of Leo's. She sprinted down the hallway to the grand obsidian entranceway to Hades palace. Sholeh stood on the balcony, unable to move, to breathe.

There, standing in the center of the room was a golden-haired demigod, dragged by the arms by two skeleton servants. Leo struggled furiously against their grip, pushing one to the ground, only to be grabbed by two others. _Sholeh, where's my Sholeh? _And then he saw her standing brokenheartedly above him on the balcony, brokenhearted and yet defying her own agony.

"SHOLEH!" he bellowed. "They're taking me, I don't know where they're taking me— Help!"

"No," she refused, staring at the ground.

And then it all clicked like machinery coming into place. She was giving herself up for him. _No, no, gods, if there's any justice … _"Don't do this, Sholeh, it's not worth it, I'm not worth it—"

"You're worth anything, my love," she whispered, wishing that it were over. _Please, I can't bear this anymore. Please, let death take me. Throw my heart into Tartarus. Drown me in the River Lethe. I want oblivion._

"NO! GODS DAMN IT, NO!" Leo threw off another skeleton, but they were steadily drawing him closer to the door, soon he would be at the threshold, and then she would be alone. "Please, Sholeh, I don't want to live without you—"

"I didn't want to either, Leo," Sholeh replied, her voice strong, but vision blurred with tears. She tilted her head to the ground. "A year without you. A year in a hell of my own doing. I'm not going to live in that world anymore."

"Please, Sholeh, there's another way, just... just look at me! Look at me!" the boy screamed. Sholeh only looked to the right, avoiding the very sight of him. "There's got to be another way-- just, just wait!" He recoiled at the freezing touch of another skeleton.

"GO!" the girl suddenly screamed. Something within her had broken; some cord pulled farther and farther back with unbearable tension ever since Leo had died. The bowstring snapped, and the great staircase suddenly burst into flame, its oaken planks cracking, splitting. "JUST GO!"

Leo stopped moving, his body tense with pain. _No. _This couldn't be happening. "I won't leave you, Sholeh!"

"Can't you see, damn it?" Sholeh sobbed, her body shaking. Nothing was left to her. She _would_ be the master of her own fate, even if that fate were death. It was her death in exchange for Leo. Leo her god, her only honor.

"I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE!"

The words were a whip. Leo felt a void open up inside of him, a great black monster consuming everything. He inhaled sharply, mouth open in helplessness. His only answer for Sholeh: he looked in her eyes, those eyes he used to be able to sense, feel every emotion, but were now just darkness. He shivered in Hades' eternal night, fighting tears.

Her figure was tense, composed solely of planes and angles, and with the sight of her sharp, passionate eyes, every dream he'd ever had, every hopeless aspiration was set on fire, razed to the ground. She had been his vision, his proof that the impossible could be achieved, that people could be heroes, that the gods could be just, that his life could be more than suffering, that this Casanova could amount to something, that Leo Eliot could rise, not fall, into love.

Leo felt the skeletons grabbing him, their clanking cold bones gripping his tanned skin as if in a dream. He couldn't move, only allow himself to be dragged back. He could only stare into her eyes, into universes of ebony and twinkling stars. And then the heavy black door was opened, and he was pushed out, coughing and crying, shoved onto the doorstep, and the threshold was forever closed. Sholeh was gone.

The girl gave a despairing sob and collapsed. Sholeh hugged her white arms around her body. "I lied to you, Leo James Eliot. Forgive me."

* * *

Haha, Leo's middle name is James.

I feel like there's been too much crying going on lately in this story.

Review please! You'll be my best friend forever!!! (smiles and waves sketchily.)


	16. Aristeia

ahaha so this took literally forever, guys. jeez, i'm sorry. there was a lot of stuff going on...

but hopefully I've made up for my horrible lateness with this chapter! The title is the ancient greek word for a warrior's moment of greatest glory in battle.

* * *

Somewhere, she thought, maybe Hades was smirking, laughing coldly at her. And maybe he did nothing; apathetic uncaring, neither the mask of comedy nor of tragedy, because death truly was the great, uncaring, unbiased, and unemotional equalizer. Well, not quite equal, because the Olympians never died. They were deathless, without disease or pain, lacking all the physical flaws they endowed humankind with.

And yet however much Sholeh, sitting on her bed, oddly complacent and motionless, resented the gods, they were not the objects of her loathing. Because it was not really them who had done this. The truth? The truth was that Leo hadn't been able to evade the arrow that had sped toward him, hadn't seen the archer. That Sholeh could have done something. That there really had been no excuse she could cower behind. So what if things had happened fast? That's what everyone had told her. She'd moved quick enough, hadn't she, reacted and fought ferociously enough to save her own skin. And the shattering, self-inflicted truth was Sholeh had screwed up and that Leo had deserved someone better. And now life's silly game of cat and mouse, the endless baiting, and unfulfilled promises and deferred dreams and inane everyday chatter was over. The cat had finally put its clawed paw down, its glinting talons ending Sholeh's life.

An indistinct screaming in her ear, garbled and incoherent. She swatted her hand at the figure as if driving away an annoying fly. She was being shaken hard, her head flopping like a rag doll. And then- a sharp tingling across her cheek; someone had slapped her.

"SHOLEH!" There was Damien before her, his olive face blotchy, eyes red.

The girl blinked slowly, resentfully, her body lethargic with grief and a strange emptiness. "Whaddya want?" she asked, her voice emotionless.

"Look, I can't- I can't… But your, well, Apollo's son, is he still in the Underworld?"

Sholeh stared at the ground murderously, her solemn mouth twisted into an angry slash. How could he ask this of her? It was like asking a man dying on the battlefield to try and amputate his own leg. Maybe she had once had the strength for it, but now her soul was drained of rebellion.

"Well?" the demon asked again. Sholeh found herself staring with repugnance at the expectant shape of his mouth. He knew that he would get an answer; that she would tell him.

"Well, aren't you clever," she murmured.

"What?"

"Yes. He's… Not far from the palace. About half the way to the Styx."

"Look, Sholeh, look here," he grabbed her chin roughly, with authority and possessiveness. She pushed him away, disgusted.

"Look at me!" he demanded, and with a certain amount of reluctance, Sholeh did. Charcoal eyes flecked with blue and a silent acquiescence. There was no fight in his eyes, no mixed emotions. Only a determination that was not a battle march, but a white flag of surrender. "I've been a slave for so long."

"What?"

"So long. I've forgotten liberty- the way it rushes upon you all at once, and you feel that you're standing somewhere very, very dark, but so beautiful."

"I don't know what the Hades you're talking about," she laughed resentfully, inwardly taken aback by her own cruelty.

"When you think maybe you're just waiting to be born, but that's all right, because you're still free once it happens." Sholeh felt his hand grasp hers, bring it down to the dagger in its sheath, and guide it upwards, so it was pointing at his chest. Her hand shook fearfully, but Damien steadied her. Something was dawning on Sholeh, the palest gray mass of an idea rising in her mind, turning the delicate rose of sunrise.

"I haven't lived for so long, you know. And I know I won't ever be born. But there's still hope for it. Salvation, I mean. Not by my own hand, which is, I guess, how I would ideally want it. But I think this is supposed to be." The tip of the dagger was touching his chest, and beneath the layers of clothing, she could feel his flesh and bones and muscle and blood, and suddenly the human body seemed to Sholeh such a fragile thing, barely stronger than an eggshell.

"No…" she whispered, part in fear and part in awe of how easy it would be to break him.

"A life for a life," he replied, a smile upon the demon's face. "The only way. I am the son of Nyx and Erebus, the eater of human-corpse flesh and Hades' torturer. I am a slave to my own darkness and to Hades' control of it. And this dagger…"

"Is light," Sholeh finished. "But—"

"I am so very tired," Damien said softly, with the confidence and innocence of one who knows he is dying. "Tired of awaiting something promised to me long ago, a remote idea which will never come. And you—you are so very full of life."

A story came to Sholeh's mind, told to her as a child, the impossible tale of a demon named Eurynomos, who devoured the flesh of the impious, and yet longed to be free.

"But no, I can't, I've taken too much life already, I gave mine up—" Sholeh stuttered.

"Please, I have my pride yet," replied Damien, with his characteristic smirk that had so infuriated her once upon a time. "I won't beg, Sholeh. But you see," he continued with the careless air of a millionaire throwing away a trifle, "if I cannot have life, why not try my hand at true death?"

And then all at once she saw it. Salvation and peace and life. Natural order restored, Life with a capital 'L' restored, because it was Leo's life, and it was her's, too.

It was at that moment she slid the dagger into the demon, and Sholeh knew exactly what she had done, and it had been rational and she was fully in control, but Damien was gasping on the ground, a shining dagger embedded in him, his dark blue blood spilling out, trickling in a sickly stream onto the ground. And then all the matter, all his atoms seemed to shine brighter than the sun for a moment, like a star going supernova and Sholeh found herself crying at the tragic beauty of it all.

For a nanosecond, she thought she saw not a dying boy, but a strange, clawed blue figure with the wings of a vulture, and then there was nothing at all, but an ancient wooden floor that didn't know it had been the dying place of the immortal demon Eurynomos.

"Hope you find it, Damien. Salvation, I mean," she whispered, the first taste of his name on her lips, mingled with the echo of his words. And then Sholeh was hurtling out of the gloomy room, and the mausoleum-like halls, and then into the darkness of her father's realm.

* * *

"Wait, Sholeh, where are you going?" A kind voice called to her. The girl doubled back a few steps to see Persephone, her friendly open face and arms outstretched, pink flowers in her right hand, pleasantly garish and cheerful in the macabre Underworld.

"Persephone!" Sholeh called back, and sprinted toward the goddess. "I can't explain how, I don't have time, but—"

"You're leaving…?" the goddess asked sadly, staring at the ground. Sholeh couldn't reply, couldn't bear to break this woman's heart, she who had grown so strangely dear to her.

Persephone swallowed her tears and looked at Sholeh. "Well, you should get going, dear, you don't belong here. Go on, I won't tell Hades. Run, I saw Leo by the Styx—"

And then Sholeh tackled her in a fierce, loving hug and Persephone felt like a mother once more. "Thanks," the girl whispered.

* * *

It was being deceived, and hurt past repair and conquered all at once. A war of emotion. It was not quite a flood or a hurricane inside him—those were both natural disasters. And something of what Sholeh had said, had screamed at him was so innately wrong, should not have ever happened. It was as if every law of nature, every physical force had abandoned Leo, left him stranded with gravity and the conservation of mass and inertia. Now, merely hundreds of feet away from life, it was not the crash of cymbals and blare of French horns and joyous melody playing in Leo's mind. It was the Hindenburg and the carnage left behind by war and the atom bomb all at once.

Maybe if he were to run back, or sing for her, or apologize because it had been his fault all along… or maybe she was obliquely demanding the same uncontrollable ferocity and unpredictability that so defined her. He could tear the Underworld into a million pieces, or drown himself in the River Styx or laugh at life, not death, because it would be something like the flash of her hair in the sunlight or the sharp motions of her body. Not equal though, and maybe that was why she didn't love him any longer, Leo thought, just as Sholeh reached him on the banks of the Styx.

"LEO!" she sobbed into him, grasping at his shirt, but no tears fell because a terribly throbbing hope was what she felt, not sadness any longer. But there was no response from Leo; he just kept plodding resolutely forward.

"Leo?" she demanded, touching his face with authority. "Leo, look at me, what's wrong?"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" The son of Apollo shoved her harshly, and Sholeh fell backwards, tripped over a rock and landed on the freezing, barren ground. "Don't touch me" Leo said slowly, through gritted teeth. And his hatred of her, of her, along with pure and principled self-loathing she saw in his eyes made her catch her breath, her voice silenced.

"Why are you here?" he commanded her, approaching Sholeh in two quick steps. "To laugh at me, maybe?"

"No, I would never, Leo, I came to—"

"To what? To apologize? Because you don't love me anymore, and I… I still love you?" There was such an irrationality in him, a tense and frightening violence of emotion, and Leo suddenly seemed dangerous. Because love had never seemed desperate to Sholeh, but this passion in his screaming voice and in his brown eyes was savage and untamable.

"Or worse, to say it wasn't your fault? That SOMEONE ELSE made you do it? Because it's never, ever Sholeh's fault, no, it's your parents, or the gods, or our friends, or—" he stopped abruptly, taking his head in his hands, and sat on the ground next to her.

"Di immortales, why, Sholeh?" he asked forlornly.

And then she wrapped him in her arms and they sat next to the silently fatal river. There suddenly came a great cry from Hades' palace and Sholeh knew she had been discovered. "Leo," she said, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we're going home. Right now, both of us." What she had just said suddenly struck her. Sholeh, the girl whose foster parents who had disowned her, who was now running away from her real father and had probably angered her mother past apology, still had a home; Camp Half Blood.

"What?"

"Come on, hurry, Hades is coming for me." Leo pulled away from Sholeh's embrace. An unbearable pause.

"How can I trust you?"

Smiling like a child, full of innocence and radiance and confidence in their perfection, Sholeh replied. "There's been days you couldn't trust me, Leo, in the past. Because I screwed a bunch of stuff up. You shouldn't have been here in the first place… But now, y'see, you must trust me. That's the only way. But you must trust me not just out of necessity, because otherwise you will die once again, but because of something much more. It's that perfect luminescence you see in the morning, that delicate soft light, but its so defiant, and it alone drives away the night."

"Because I do love you, Leo. I'll say it again," she continued, her voice breaking, but her eyes were full of reverence and solemnity, as she grasped for words that could not possibly describe any fragment of what she felt. "I love you."

And then that in-between element, the not-quite-so of nature began around them, leaping on the ground, wildly dancing. The fire engulfed the infertile landscape of cold rocks and damp moans, as the hydrogen and oxygen reacted, but it was somehow past the explanations of nature and science. Because although the inferno was a coppery, fierce, red, it was deceptively so. For this was not the flame on a gas stove, or of logs burning, smoke rising up the chimney.

Sholeh summoned, for the first and only time in her life, immortal fire, that which Prometheus had stolen from the gods, what her mother tended on the crags of Mount Olympus, which was the flame of the ideals and dreams and philosophies of Western Civilization.

And suddenly Leo backed away because Sholeh exuded the kind of heat he had seen in her, but never caused outwardly. And language, the expression of her veneration was suddenly not so important, because it would never be enough: because Leo himself was more than himself. If you added the way he stood, leaning so slightly on his toes, and calculated the exact lines of his body in proportion, and measured his brain activity when he thought of Sholeh, and computed the degree of his musical talent, and evaluated his acceptance of others, and combined them all, it would not equal Leo. It was like the music he so adored to make. A perfect fifth and then a minor sixth, the chords progress, and then somehow, you have a magical, sparkling tingle like champagne bubbles filling your body and unwanted tears in your eyes.

And so her love for him was much greater than the way he commanded her respect and made her breath quicken and endorphins cloud her mind. Maybe truth could never be expressed in words or language, in such a garbled mess of symbols with vague notions trailing behind them like puppet strings. But it existed.

And then Sholeh exists too. She takes a step toward the river, the fire tangling around her body like the tendrils of vines, and she is much, much more alive than she has ever been, ever will be. Her body is composed of sharp, straight angles and lines, the flames supplying curves. Eyes are unfocused, gazing upwards, but not at the gods. Every pore of her skin is vibrant, and there is a kind of pulsing awareness slowly building in her mind. The dead reach them, their arms trying to grasp the demigods greedily, but then they are only dust and memories, and even their leader daren't approach… And then Sholeh exists not only in herself, but also on so very many levels of perception, of life, like the footnotes on a page. She is the embers dying in a fireplace in a lonely cabin in the wilderness, and in the furnace of a broken family, and the candle burning in a chemistry experiment of a seventh grade class, and then she is on the heights of Mount Olympus.

She breathes a deep, oxygen-starved, ragged, dying breath, and she was Sholeh Prometheus once more. And then all was darkness.

* * *

Cue dramatic music!

The next chapter won't take me as ridiculously long... hopefully. JK, it won't. Since I have winter break coming up soon! Yay!

oh, and i didn't entirely make up that stuff about Eurynomos. He's a real character in Greek mythology, if a bit obscure. Well, very obscure, I'll admit. But look him up on wikipedia. I did make up the stuff about him being a slave to Hades, but that was just to make him a more interesting character.


	17. I Will Possess Your Heart

lalala! there's going to be one more chapter after this, plus an epilogue, m'kay? title comes from the death cab for cutie song of the same name...

* * *

"Firegirl, please wake up," Leo begged. Sholeh lay unresponsive and feverish across his lap, their sooty bodies leaving charcoal stains on the floor of a tiled and grimy subway bathroom. The boy dabbed at her burning forehead with a damp paper towel, feeling completely useless and cursing himself for it. "Gods, why didn't I pay attention to the healing lessons?" he muttered, fighting to keep his voice soft, so as not to alert any passing police officers. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting a sickly yellow pall over the cheap, cracked tiles. Leo swore softly, checking the time on his battered watch before he remembered that it hadn't worked for almost a year now, since his… death.

The boy remarked sarcastically to himself, "Well, congratulations, Mr. Eliot, how does it feel to be the first person to escape death?" And despite this sarcasm, Leo did admit that he felt, well, _good_. He didn't know when it had happened, but somehow, somewhere along the way, bathed in Sholeh's flames as the two hurtled up to the garish light of L.A., he had opened his eyes, and saw everything, his mind working overtime like a newborn's. There was no way to pinpoint the moment when his heart had imperceptibly started to beat, just as one could never say the time and place when a child became an adult, but it had happened. And so the two of them had gotten here: Sholeh, with her body aflame and crackling with such vicious, vivid energy, and Leo, pulling her along, laughing. So now they sat in a disgusting bathroom stall of the subway, because they could not travel at night, for one. And because of more pressing matters as well, because Sholeh had collapsed, her eyes rolled up into her head, and Leo had frantically dragged her here.

"Gods," he mumbled again. "And I'm Apollo's kid." What the Hades was he supposed to do? Medicine had never been his _thing_, despite being a son of Apollo. Knowing the correct dosage of Tylenol for a headache was about the extent of his curative skills. He knew Sholeh had a fever, though, and she was trembling, her eyelids fluttering as if in REM cycle, though Leo was pretty sure one could not dream while unconscious. Maybe he should ask a policeman for help. But they would ask so many questions, and a seventeen-year-old boy (who was supposed to be dead) carrying a sick teenage girl, both of them covered in ashes and gods-know-what-else, would make an odd, if not downright suspicious picture. And neither Leo nor Sholeh knew how to manipulate the Mist- they weren't exactly the subtle kind of people. Plus, Hades was sure to be out looking for them, and Leo felt safe in this tiny, dirty bathroom with its backed-up sink, for some reason.

Sholeh moaned, the sound deep in her throat, and twisted, her face grazing his knee. Leo, awkward and unsure, stroked her hair, his eyebrows creased with worry. She had journeyed to the Underworld, into death and back for him. He couldn't lose her now, not because of this inexplicable illness that turned her skin sallow and eyelids a bruised purple.

Her breath came in short gasps now, frantic and distressed. "No, no, Apollo, Father help me… please, Gods," Leo said, panicking. He grabbed Sholeh's clammy hand and pulled her closer to him, wishing he could absorb the fever through her skin.

Suddenly Sholeh started to thrash about, kicking wildly at the wall, knocking a chunk of cement loose, crying out like a wounded animal. Leo desperately tried to hang on to her as she jerked about as if possessed. "Firegirl, Sholeh," he pleaded into her ear, but she knocked him on the jaw, drawing blood from his lip, and Leo saw that her eyes were open, but unseeing and bulging. And then her back arched backwards, and Sholeh was sobbing, because this was death, and she collapsed onto Leo again and was much too still.

"NO!" he screamed hopelessly, all caution forgotten. He found her wrist and grabbed it, searching for a pulse, and felt none. He vaguely remembered something from his past, and was pressing his mouth against hers, hungry for any sign of life, and pushing on her chest, attempting CPR. "Sholeh," he cried into her lips, and then by a miracle, her tongue was moving, and he heard her speak.

She was confused and disoriented, and felt like she got run over by a truck, or worse. Someone was crushing her. "Who are you?" the girl asked, and the person's warmth disappeared. There was a boy above her, with blond hair caked with blood and charcoal, his long, thin face must have been tan, but he was pale from amazement.

"Leo…?" she asked wonderingly, and then she remembered and her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "You slobbered all over my face."

"Sorry," he replied dumbly.

"And you look like a wreck. How did we end up in this crappy bathroom?" She noticed a trail of blood dripping from his lip. "Casanova, you're bleeding."

"Well, yeah, you smacked your head into my jaw," Leo replied, too awestruck to sound indignant.

"I did that? Sorry," she apologized carelessly. "But what happened? I just remember being by the River Styx, and then there was fire everywhere, and we got out, into L.A…. that's all I remember."

"That's because you passed out in front of a subway station, right onto some lady who has had way too much Botox done. Because her look of surprise when you fainted onto her was pretty much indistinguishable from her normal look." Sholeh laughed and the boy grinned back, vaguely aware that he was blushing. "So I dragged you down two flights of stairs, and I tried to be as gentle as I could, but you're probably gonna have a bruise here." He poked her right knee, and Sholeh winced.

"Ow," she whined. "What did you do?"

"Well, there was this guy with a pretzel cart, and really, he ran into me, but that's not important. So I brought you down into the subway, and into this, as you put it so charmingly, 'crappy bathroom.' Since it was one: getting dark out, two: people thought I was going to rape and or mug you, and three: because I figured there could be monsters around, and we both know that I am a lover, not a fighter."

"You mean you suck at fighting," Sholeh remarked dryly.

"Exactly!" Leo replied happily. "But then you got some weird fever," his smile dimmed. "And I didn't know what to do, but you were spazzing out and that's when you nearly broke my jaw. But then you just stopped moving altogether, and I couldn't find a, uh, pulse, and uh, I thought…"

Sholeh silenced him. "I'm alright now," she said slowly. "And we're both _alive_." Never had the word inspired such a feeling of reckless, solemn joy in her, larger than her entire being. And Sholeh didn't quite know what Leo was thinking, but she could guess.

"Yeah," he replied softly.

"Although I must admit I'm a little underwhelmed by life," Sholeh joked, gesturing at their surroundings. Leo laughed raucously, before remembering that they needed to be quiet.

After a slight pause, the boy asked cautiously, "How did you…?"

"It was Damien," Sholeh replied with a guilty, furtive look of sorrow. "And the dagger was made of light… It's a long story."

Leo glanced at her, and she saw the trust there, but could not bring herself to tell the full tale. "So Nico was right about the 'life for a life' deal," he said softly, and Sholeh knew that he was not saying all that was on his mind.

"Yeah, but I get the feeling that was more the Fates' doing than my father's."

"Is that forgiveness I sense in your voice?" Leo asked, only half joking.

Sholeh laughed though. "Maybe, maybe not." She grabbed his hand authoritatively, and stared at him, pulling herself into a sitting position facing Leo.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"I dunno. Wait 'till morning, I guess. Then head east."

"How?"

"We'll figure it out. Planning is not my strong suite."

"No, it's not," Leo laughed. Her hair was tangled past all hope and bruises covered her body, but there was a fire in her eyes. Sholeh was impulsive, and irrational, and moody, and temperamental, and derisive, and frustrating, and audacious, and impetuous. She pissed off the people she cared about. She had no plans for the future. She fluctuated from assured arrogance to self-loathing. She left him throwing away his life preserver, and then drowned him in her slipstream.

She was speaking to him and he nodded and answered without knowing what he was saying. The words didn't really matter at this point. It was her sharp, scathing wit and curious eyes. She leaned her head back against the wall and stared at him from beneath half-closed eyelids, haughty.

And gods, he wanted her. But Leo felt that Sholeh was not his. _Yet._ _Give it some time_, he thought.

She laughed sharply at his introspective expression. "Leo are you even listening?" she asked, and leaned over to kiss him.

And from the warm, imperious touch of her lips, Leo realized something. An epiphany, if you will. He could wait forever, but he would never possess her. But Leo rather liked it that way. He belonged to her.

* * *

"—Well, I dunno, I feel like so much could go wrong… It would be pretty easy to screw up, y'know?" Nico said cautiously. This prank was risky at best. _But if we pull it off, this'll be awesome_, he admitted inwardly. Four days ago, the Ares, Aphrodite, Apollo and Demeter cabins had beaten them in Capture the Flag. But were the Hades, Poseidon, Athena, Hermes and Hephaestus cabins going to take that sitting down? Certainly not.

With the combined creative force of the Hermes' jokers and the careful planning of Athena's kids, they had all come up with a plan worthy of Odysseus. Unfortunately, it all hinged on Nico's acting skills. He was single-handedly to convince the Ares cabin to patrol the borders. How? That wasn't really planned out, so much as a general suggestion. Something about a manticore. _This is crazy_, he thought.

"Nuh uh, guys, I'm not doing it," Nico suddenly decided.

"Please, Nico?" Annabeth pleaded. _Don't look at her, don't look at her, if you do, you'll say yes,_ the boy commanded himself. Staring resolutely at the ground, Nico shook his head.

"Why not?" Percy asked.

"Why not? Why _not_? Because I'm gonna get beaten to a pulp!" the son of Hades replied, his voice rising in pitch.

"No, you aren't," Travis remarked.

"You might lose a little blood, get a few teeth knocked out at the worst," his twin continued.

"Nothing that a little ambrosia can't fix."

"Take a shot for the team, will you?" Connor punched him playfully on the shoulder. Nico pushed him away with a crazed expression.

"No way in Hades. Why don't any of you do it?" Nico pleaded.

"We already told you a billion times. Travis and Connor need to be by the Big House, and all the Hermes kids need to be by the borders so the enemy doesn't escape—"

"The _enemy_? You mean the other campers?" Nico laughed scornfully.

"Hang on, Nico, they're the enemy now. All's fair in love and war."

"My cabin needs to be on the hill, to start the fire—" Beckendorf began, but then stopped abruptly. Everyone winced at the mention of fire, and no one quite knew what to say. They'd almost forgotten, because they kept plodding on in life, made plans and jokes without Sholeh and Leo, whom Chiron presumed dead.

"Maybe we should wait until they get back to do the prank," Nico said nervously. "It'll be way easier."

"They're, uh, not coming back," Grover said slowly. It had been the first time he'd spoken at the meeting.

"Whatever, that's what you think," Nico retorted.

"And Percy needs to be by the Apollo cabin so he can spring their trap—" Annabeth continued, trying to pull the conversation away from such a painful topic.

"Oh, of course _Percy_ gets the easy job. The Apollo kids won't even fight back—" Nico shot back.

"Hey! My job is not easy!" Percy protested. "Those Apollo kids have a mean shot, you know—"

"Well, then how about we switch, and you can be in danger of getting every bone in your body crushed into powder," Nico told him fiercely, before standing up. He was sick of people changing the subject and looking at him as if he were a sad, lost little boy who needed guidance. He knew his sister was out of the Underworld. "This is crazy, and I am out of here."

"Nico, wait!" Connor called after him, as the boy stormed out of Athena cabin. Annabeth followed Nico outside, muttering about how hard it was to get a plan ready when no one would cooperate.

"Come on, Nico, please?" she begged, not noticing that he had stopped moving abruptly, stood stock-still on the lawn, staring curiously at the borders of camp.

"Nico," Percy whined, catching up to Annabeth. "It's gonna be so awesome, and I'll tell you what, how about you get to keep Clarisse's spear once we're done. I mean, assuming she doesn't take it back again, but—"

"Look!" Nico cried, pointing far off to the point where Camp's strawberry fields met the pine trees.

"What is it?" Annabeth asked, stopping next to her friend. Nico felt her presence softly, like a static charge fluttering between them, but he couldn't take his eyes off the skyline.

"I don't see anything," Percy maintained stubbornly.

"Honestly, are you two blind? _Look_!"

"Oh my gods," Annabeth said quietly. There was a dark blot on the horizon, consisting of two smaller laughing figures.

"Will ya look at that?" Percy wondered aloud.

"Ha, I told both of you!" Nico crowed happily, clapping his hands together as if he were a child once more.

* * *

whoa, it took me like 9 tries to spell 'beckendorf' correctly.

description of how they get back in the next chapter.... but not a full one, because i'm lazy. sheo will probs just tell the campers, etc. and a visit from some long-lost characters. like, really long-lost. and a field trip to everyones favorite home of the gods.


	18. For My Sweetheart, said the Static

last chapter! oh, plus the epilogue after this. and its really ultra long...

* * *

Being pushed along in the crowd, amazed demigods asking questions, and surrendering to their hungry stares; she was happy, perfectly and completely so. Leo was joking with his half siblings, ruffling Kitty's hair awkwardly when she tackled him in a ferocious hug. Percy was eagerly asking Sholeh about how she escaped, while Annabeth gently scolded the boy for doing so. A strawberry-laced breeze tickled her face, prickling the cuts on her skin, tugging at the stray, dirty locks of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. Sholeh was only absently aware of the people around her, of Nico's tiny, childish form hugging her arm. She looked down at him and was surprised to see the face of an innocent boy, grinning in a lovable, manic sort of way, clinging to her body with naive trust. Maybe it was just his baggy clothes that dwarfed his small frame, but Nico seemed younger.

Sholeh felt that she was smiling, laughing at something Leo said. She wondered vaguely if she ought to be more aware, but her consciousness slipped languidly away as she tried to grasp it. Perhaps it was blood loss. A side affect from the strange virus she'd had. Exhaustion, dehydration, sunstroke. Very probably shock. But they all seemed wrong and Sholeh didn't need to really be aware, so far as she was so ecstatic, so she turned her gaze to the landscape.

There were the trees surrounding Camp Half Blood, ones that didn't really constitute a pleasant wood, and weren't quite a towering forest. There were the common, in-between, sort of trees one could see in any overgrown backyard. Plain evergreens. You didn't see them in fashionable public gardens or government protected parks. They were all quite indistinguishable from one another, which was what made Sholeh stare at them. Their simplicity and ordinariness was such that they seemed to melt into one another, like lead lazily liquefying in a fiery crucible. It was unfeasible to Sholeh to imagine one tree as an individual, separate from the others. They were all interconnected, and not just the trees. The almost-forest deliquesced into the soft, surrounding hills, their different greens combining like the colors of a Japanese watercolor painting, all harmony and patience and gentility. It was the very opposite of her journey, her experiences, of Sholeh herself. And she was happy here.

But what could she say? Except, perhaps, opposites attract.

* * *

"—And I passed out somewhere along the way, but we got out into L.A., and apparently I fainted into some lady's arms, according to Leo—"

"You did!" Leo exclaimed, interrupting Sholeh for possibly the hundredth time in an hour. Annabeth got the feeling that the son of Apollo just couldn't help himself, and it showed in his smile, like a kindergartener opening the first present Christmas morning.

"Leo! Stop interrupting me right this instant!" Sholeh admonished him, all at once like a querulous housewife, and the demigods all laughed at the impression. Percy, Annabeth, Nico, Grover, Sholeh and Leo had somehow all managed to extricate themselves from the crowd to find a peaceful haven in the Poseidon cabin (which under any other circumstances could hardly have been described as peaceful, due to the fact it looked as if Percy had decided it was his duty to make his room as messy as humanly possible.)

"Sor-ry," Leo replied as if offended, with a pause between the two syllables, and they all laughed some more.

"Anywho, I woke up hours later in this—"

"Crappy bathroom, as she put it," Leo interrupted again, and got Sholeh's best death glare as punishment. He gulped audibly.

"As I was saying, I woke up in this 'crappy bathroom' and apparently I'd had a fever, or some weird disease, which due to Leo's blatant lack of medical skills, he was unable to cure," she joked, and Leo stuck out his tongue at this, "and then we waited the night out and left the next morning on the 8:05 subway. We got off a couple blocks from the train station, hoping that we could convince someone that we were lost kids, a brother and sister, who needed to get to New York City."

"Brother and sister?" Percy asked. "You two don't look much alike."

"And I think, by the way you act around each other, that anyone could figure out that you weren't brother and sister," Grover added.

"Well, I dunno," Nico mused. "Technically you're related. Pretty closely, too. Let's see…" Sholeh and Leo paled. "Hades is Zeus' brother, and Apollo is Zeus' son, which makes Apollo Hades' nephew, so Sholeh and Apollo are cousins—"

"Let's stop there, Nico, we don't really want to hear the rest," Annabeth interjected, but the boy continued.

"—So Leo is Apollo's son… which means you're first cousins, once removed!" Nico exclaimed, proud of what he had figured out, without really thinking about it.

There were a few moments of silence before Percy intoned, "Ew."

"Yeah, we try not to think about it," Leo deadpanned. Then he suddenly smiled. "But really, you shouldn't be talking, Percy."

Sholeh grinned wickedly. "What're Percy and Annabeth, Nico?"

"Well…" the boy thought for a couple seconds, his lips moving soundlessly. "Also first cousins once removed!"

"Ha, so there," Leo crowed.

"First cousins once removed isn't technically… you know… _incest_, is it?" Annabeth asked in a low tone, very slowly.

"I don't even know," Sholeh replied. "Nico, is it?"

"Maybe, maybe not!" the boy exclaimed, enjoying having the upper hand.

"_Is it_?" Leo asked desperately.

"Listen, you tell us right now, Nico," Percy growled, mock-threatening. Nico yelped and jumped up, retreating into a corner.

"Wait, hang on, I'm not afraid of _you_," he scoffed, remembering that it was Percy.

"Nico, tell me right now or I swear on the River Styx, I will roast you over a slow flame," Sholeh demanded, and the boy cringed, before pointing at her.

"Okay, but I am a little afraid of you," he admitted before sprinting out the door.

Twelve and a half minutes later, after Nico had been retrieved from his hiding place in the Hermes cabin and Annabeth's copy of the Oxford American Dictionary was perused for the definition of 'incest', it was concluded that first cousins once removed did not fall under the category of incestuous. Unusual, perhaps. A little… too close for comfort. But the demigods could live with that. They all retreated back to Poseidon cabin to hear the rest of Sholeh's story.

"Well, before we got sidetracked talking about what does and does not constitute incest," Sholeh said with a glare at her half brother, who shrugged, "I said that we were going to board a train if we could con some unsuspecting good Samaritan to lend us money. Or rather, give us money, since really I had no pretense of ever paying them back. Anyway, we tried a couple of people. But maybe we really couldn't pull the brother-sister thing off. Or maybe they just didn't want to spend money on two lost, innocent, starving children."

Grover snorted. Innocent? Hardly.

Sholeh continued. "Whatever it was, they just weren't interested in helping us."

"And when we say 'weren't interested' we mean that they flatly refused," Leo added with a grin. "That one guy even called the police, remember?"

"Yeah. He called us 'vagabonds,' I remember. Anyway, we somehow ended up on the tracks, and there was this train with a sun on it, I think, and there was an empty car, and the door was just open, so…"

Something about the sentence struck Percy. _Train with a sun on it_… Could it be Apollo? It had to be. He glanced at Annabeth, who he could tell was thinking the same thing. Should they say anything? She shook her head. No. Leo probably didn't want his dad's help.

"So we got on, and four days later, we're in New York City." Leo had resumed telling the story, as Sholeh seemed to have given up on being the sole narrator. "Sholeh had a drachma on her, she always finds money somehow, it's amazing—"

"Hardly amazing, I'll just chalk that one up to Hades," Sholeh interrupted. Annabeth noticed that she said 'Hades.' Not 'Dad.' The daughter of Athena had known that Sholeh had always resented her father, but she still called him Dad. But it made sense, considering Sholeh had just escaped, stolen Leo too, from her father's realm. It wasn't all that great of a father-daughter relationship.

"It's amazing to me; I can never keep a cent on me, I'm always broke," Leo replied. "But anyway, we called the Grey Sisters, and here we are."

"Sweet," Percy said, trying to fill the silence. It immediately occurred to him that 'sweet' was an idiotic thing to say at such a time.

"Thanks," Sholeh replied appreciatively. Apparently she didn't care.

"Sholeh!" There came a yell at the door. Nico, being the closest, opened it to reveal Chiron, standing in all his four footed glory, though Sholeh had to admit his hair was a little grayer than she remembered. But the centaur beckoned her over, before gruffly shaking her hand. Sholeh stared at him.

"You get dishes for a month, Sholeh. Every night," the centaur commanded in way of greeting.

"Wait, what? That's not fair—" she protested.

"You left without permission and stole Camp property."

"Okay, I give you that, but it's not fair." Suddenly Sholeh was pulled into the centaur's rough hug. "What the Hades?" Chiron released her at this exclamation, and Sholeh would've sworn that if ancient centaur weapons masters could be embarrassed, then this one certainly was.

"Dishes for a week!" he repeated, neighing a little. Sholeh couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "Oh, and Sholeh," he added after cantering out the door, "There's a call for you."

* * *

"Hello?" Sholeh asked, clutching the phone receiver with white knuckles. "Who is this?" Chiron had refused to tell her who it was on the other line. _Mangy old horse_, she thought, but affectionately. After the Titan War ended, Chiron had reluctantly allowed the payphone to be put in for the campers who couldn't Iris Message their parents. And in the usual Camp Half Blood fashion, the poor phone booth had gotten beaten up, slashed with swords, written on, and otherwise defaced in a surprisingly short amount of time.

She could barely hear a thing through all the white noise. It sounded as if the person on the other line was standing in the middle of highway. "What? I can't hear you," Sholeh asked again.

"Hang on," she heard the other person say and then the static gradually cleared. "How about now?"

"Yeah."

"This is Sholeh, correct?"

"Yes," the girl replied cautiously. The reception was still bad enough that she couldn't quite place the voice.

"Um, hello."

"Okay, who is this?" Sholeh demanded, getting angry now.

"Your foster mother."

_Well, that was unexpected, to say the least_, she thought absently. Sholeh truly had no idea what to say. W_hat do you say to the foster mother you disowned? How's it going? Nice weather we're having?_ Sholeh finally abandoned any remaining sense of manners or propriety she had.

"What the Hades is your idea in calling me? I mean… You couldn't give a damn about me. You don't call for a year. A _year_. Do you have any idea what's happened in that year? No, you don't. You don't have any idea at all. So why in Zeus' name are you calling me?" The girl was shaking from anger and vaguely aware that she was rambling. Thunder crashed overhead. "Sorry!" she snapped away from the receiver.

"Look, Sholeh, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're _sorry_. Well, that just makes it all okay, doesn't it?" she snapped viciously and turned around disgustedly to stare at Camp Half Blood. A tiny blond boy was laughing with a tree nymph across the road. He looked like that other kid, the actor… the one in that movie, what was it called…? The sci-fi one; oh yeah, A.I. He looked like the kid in A.I.

Sholeh had a few hazy memories of watching the movie when she was younger, five or six probably. Her mother- foster mother Sholeh corrected- had loved science fiction movies. They'd watched so many together. Star Wars, Blade Runner, The Day the Earth Stood Still (the original, of course), Close Encounters of the Third Kind, ET, Planet of the Apes, you name it. But then, of course, Sholeh had been young, and her foster mother had been easygoing and Sholeh had called her 'Mom.' Somewhere along the way, 'Mommy' had turned into 'Abigail' and their relationship had disintegrated into slammed doors and ultimatums.

From just looking at that small boy, Sholeh could picture it so clearly. She and Mom were watching A.I. in a hotel room. The twins were little then, barely more than babies, and were sleeping. A seven-year-old Sholeh glanced at the clock; it was 10:15, and she was still awake. She was thrilled by how late it was and constantly reminded her mom that she _could_ stay up late like a grown-up. Every time she did so, her mother chuckled and said that Sholeh would have to go to bed in five more minutes, but five minutes later never came. She watched the movie intently, though she didn't understand it. But she could see that the mother and her little boy were in a forest, and the mommy was leaving him all alone.

"You won't understand the reasons but I have to leave you here," the movie mom said.

"Is it a game?" the little boy asked, and the television speakers poured out the sound of an orchestra, crackling through the broken bass.

Sholeh didn't understand. Why was the mommy leaving him? Why would she do that?

"Why do you want to leave me? Why? I'm sorry I'm not real. If you let me, I'll be so real for you," the boy sobbed, stumbling after the other mother, who was slamming the car door in his face. The child Sholeh was crying now. And so was her sixteen-year-old equivalent because she and the little robot boy were the same. Her mommy was leaving her too. That wasn't supposed to happen, under _any_ circumstances

"Let go, David! Let go! I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the world… I'm sorry that I let you get away. I'm sorry, Sholeh, I really am. Sholeh? Are you there? Please say you're there."

"Yes," replied Sholeh, wiping her nose and picking up a pen off the payphone. She doodled idly on the metal AT&T sign, where so many others had doodled before. She drew large, loopy, misshapen, intertwining circles, thinking, _Eat your heart out, Hermann Rorschach_. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Do you accept my apology?" Sholeh could hear two children fighting in the background. The woman on the other line sighed.

"I dunno."

"That's…. that's alright. Take your time. But I… I left Jonathan, Sholeh."

"That's good. You're better off without him."

"Yeah, I think I am. The kids and I have been living in a motel in New Jersey. I didn't want to move back in with Grandma. That would just be too depressing."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. And it's not much here, we don't even have a stove, but you know, we've got a pull-out couch. And if you ever… need a place to stay, you can come here, I guess."

"Yeah? Uh… thanks."

"I'll give you the address…" Sholeh wrote it down on her hand. It was doubtful that she would ever need a place to stay, as long as Camp was still standing. Which it would be, because the gods would always be having kids, and those kids needed to be trained. But still… it was nice to know.

"Well, that's about it, really. What's happened in your year? Two years, really, this October." her foster mother asked.

"Yeah, I guess it is almost two years. Well, lots of stuff. A war against the Titans. I can control fire, sort of. More like it controls me."

"That explains a lot."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Sholeh smiled softly, remembering everything that had burst into flame when she was a child. Mr. Bell's dinner jacket, for one. He'd never forgiven her for that. "I went to the Underworld, but now I'm back."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. Um, but I have to go. Call you later?" Sholeh lied. She didn't have to go, but she wanted to. Wanted to just hear her foster mother's apology, and potential help, and remember her for that. There was so much Sholeh couldn't forgive yet. Because she felt that, under no circumstances, should a parent leave their child. Or in her case, let her go. But she might understand why Abigail Bell did just that after thinking about it a little more.

"Oh, okay. Goodbye, Sholeh." There was no 'I love you,' no 'sweet,' or 'honey,' or otherwise endearing sentiments. Which was more natural that way, Sholeh believed. It fit. But then her foster mother added, "I'll be here." And that tiny little parting statement, before Sholeh heard the lonely _click _of a receiver back on its shelf, those small, boring words were more supportive than she could've imagined.

Sholeh put the phone down slowly and began walking back to Poseidon cabin. Hopefully the others were still there. But suddenly, there was a swirling of golden mist around her, covering her mouth, and all she could do was cough violently. Sholeh felt as if she were suddenly being compressed, her lungs crushed with the force of it, and her ears popped as if she was on an airplane. And suddenly the mist was gone and she was in a shining throne room.

"Ow," Sholeh moaned, rubbing her ears. "That's a very uncomfortable mode of transport, d'you know that? Have you ever even heard of altitude sickness?"

"What do you mean?" a silvery voice asked. Sholeh was still blinded by the light.

"I could've died from sudden lack of oxygen," she snapped, knowing that she had to be on Mount Olympus.

"No, you couldn't," a firm voice stated. Her vision finally began to clear, and Sholeh found that she was staring at the speaker. A huge man in a businesslike suit that screamed authority, with a black beard and hair, eyes identical to Thalia's- it had to be Zeus. Sholeh scanned the room. All the Olympians were here, and a hundred or so minor gods and goddesses stood scattered around the throne room. "You couldn't have died," Zeus continued.

"What do you mean?" Sholeh asked, already forming suspicions.

Athena answered her fears. "Sholeh Prometheus, daughter of Hades and Hestia, by the order of the council of the Twelve Olympians," the goddess paused for a moment, her calculating grey eyes seeming to freeze the girl to the spot, "you have been given immortality by the gods. You will be, until the end of time, a minor goddess of wildfire and civilization."

Sholeh shook her head. "No, that's not… No!" She didn't _want_ to be immortal, she'd never _asked_ for this—

"We understand if you're a little overwhelmed," Poseidon said generously. "Would you like a moment to—"

"I wasn't _finished_, Poseidon," Athena snapped.

"Sorry, your royal crabby-ness," Poseidon shot back. Percy and Annabeth were so like their parents, and yet when the two demigods taunted each other, it was always for fun. Joking. Poseidon and Athena had no pretense of friendliness, or even civility in their arguments.

"Oh, that's mature," the goddess retorted. _They're like children_, Sholeh wondered angrily. _And they have all this power_. _It's like giving a four-year-old full run of your kitchen. By the end of the day, you're bound to have everything covered in chocolate icing and pizza sauce. _Athena turned back to Sholeh. "We have decided to award you this post based on your service to Olympus; specifically, the slaying of the titan Kronos, and your escape from the Underworld—"

"Wait, hang on!" Sholeh cried indignantly. "You don't understand why I went to the Underworld, why I faced my father—"

"No need to be modest, we know its because you were helping us," Zeus said gruffly.

"_What_? How is that possibly helping you?"

"Lord Hades has become quite a nuisance, really, these days, with the huge amount of prisoners and traitors to be contained in Tartarus. He even- imagine this!- wanted to charge us interest on the jail cells," Zeus replied, offended even by the memory of it. "But now that a mere _girl_ has outwitted him, he knows that he's a laughingstock. We don't have to pay. It's all about politics, you know—"

"No, it's not!" Sholeh protested. They were twisting everything to _their _advantage. This wasn't about them. "This has absolutely nothing to do with politics. Not your politics. You don't understand," she stated, disgusted, "I didn't do any of that to help you. I didn't kill Kronos to help you. He was going to murder everyone I knew."

The gods gasped, and lightning crashed above her, a terrifying symphony. Her eardrums pounded, but Sholeh only winced, staring at Zeus' face, which steadily got redder and redder. "BLASPHEMY!" the king of the gods roared.

"And guess what? I only went to the Underworld to save Leo. I don't give a damn about your _politics_," she spat viciously.

"Impertinent girl, prepare to be sent back to the Underworld you came from—" Zeus yelled, but Apollo calmly got up from his throne to stand in front of Sholeh, humming to his iPod, unruffled by his father's display of power. "Son, _move_," Zeus commanded him.

"Nuh uh, Dad," Apollo returned. "This chick brought my son back from the Underworld." He turned slightly to wink at Sholeh, who smiled and winked back.

"Apollo, MOVE NOW, before I blast you to bits as well!" Zeus bellowed, shaking his thunderbolt threateneningly.

"You can't do that," came a voice from across the room. Sholeh didn't understand how, but the voice seemed to flicker like a candle. It was Hestia.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because you would hardly be any better than your own father," the goddess returned calmly, and all the rest murmured their approval. Sholeh was waiting for her mother to prove herself, to cross over, to stand by Apollo, to protect her daughter. Waiting for Hestia to proclaim 'I won't let you kill my daughter.'

It didn't happen.

Sholeh snarled at the goddess, "I don't need _your_ help."

Athena thoughtfully wrote something down on a piece of paper, her pencil's scratch the only sound. Sholeh met Zeus' eyes for a moment. His were a shocking blue, of catastrophe and blind power. But she had already faced her father, who was Death itself, and Sholeh glared at him, aware that she was being much too presumptuous.

"What do you want?" he commanded.

"I don't want to be a goddess," she returned simply. "I just want to live as a demigod, like I always have."

"So you're afraid of change," Athena remarked, reminding Sholeh of a psychiatrist, albeit an all-powerful one.

"You're one to talk," Sholeh countered, incensed, and the hearth of Olympus flared violently. "The gods are the most unchanging force in the universe. You're stuck as an immortal forever."

"Very true," the goddess muttered, as if it was not something she said often. And then her voice went back to being businesslike and impatient. "But this cannot be revoked."

"I will _not_ revoke my decision," Zeus added furiously.

"Then… then…" Sholeh was trapped. Everyone she knew would grow old together, eventually die. She was stuck, the same unchanging sixteen-year-old for eternity. "I will do everything I possible can to reverse this myself," she yelled. "I will _not_ be stuck as someone I don't want to be—"

"Ungrateful," Zeus replied disdainfully.

"Look, you pompous idiot," at this, lightning struck an inch away from her, but Sholeh continued, "I fought a war against the Titan Lord of Time. I watched my friends die before my eyes. I held Leo as he was dying, heard his lasts words, which I will hear in my memory every day I am alive," Apollo, her two unlikely protector, stepped aside so that Sholeh stood before Zeus alone, individual, struggling against the emotions that made her tremble so violently. "I faced Death, and I came back" her voice shook dangerously, "just to live. I don't want to be stuck alone—" Suddenly it hit her. Alone. She didn't want to be left _alone_.

"Ah," Athena said quietly. "I see we've struck a nerve here. You just don't want to be alone. Well, father, I think that we can handle that."

"She doesn't deserve any more favors," Zeus said gruffly.

"Pwease?" Aphrodite asked petulantly, like a child with a lisp. Sholeh glared at the goddess, wanted to tell her to stay out of this. "It would be so cute."

"Sholeh Prometheus, daughter of Hades and Hestia, will be the minor goddess of wildfire and civilization, and Leo Eliot, son of Apollo, will be her immortal consort," he said with a sigh, and Sholeh held her breath, waiting for someone to speak, to say that they were joking, because this was all at once too perfect and too terrible to be true.

"What the Hades—" she began, feeling very much like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

"Quiet, child," Poseidon said with a kindly smile that reminded her of Percy. He got up from his throne and walked out of the room, motioning for her to follow. Bewildered, she did so.

"She didn't even bow. In the old days, I wouldn't have tolerated this one bit," Zeus grumbled.

* * *

Poseidon was explaining something to her, his voice soothing as an ocean's breeze, and Sholeh could actually smell the salt water. Their footsteps echoed through Olympus, her light ones and his shuffling gait, but she was only being led. "—Don't mind my brother, his head's full of air anyway, you know. But really, I thought you would've been happy. Well, you never can tell, I guess." Sholeh smiled noncommittally, realizing that she actually liked Poseidon. He was a lot like his son. Or maybe his son was a lot like him. She didn't know. "But I think you can do whatever you want now. Zeus mostly forgets about the minor gods and goddesses, as long as they don't, y'know, offend him. Which you probably will, but it's alright. You can still live in the mortal world if you want. No one will pay you any mind."

"Where are we going?" she asked quietly. Poseidon was astonished. Just a moment ago, the girl- goddess now- had been so full of rage, ready to tear the heavens apart, literally burning with anger. And now she was introspective. There was still a certain sharp tone in her voice, but it was quieted. A hundred miles an hour to zero in less than a second.

"There's someone you should meet," he replied kindly, just as a grey-bearded man stepped out into the cobbled road. He had a proud, curious face, and hands worn by work. "Sholeh, this is your namesake."

"Prometheus?" she asked, confused. The man looked at her, appraising her silently. "Well?" she demanded.

He laughed, a pleasant, common sound, the kind one could soon forget, but remember the happiness it evoked. "Well," he stated. "So you're named after me."

"Yeah. Sholeh Prometheus," she replied, before turning around to realize that Poseidon was gone. As if by unspoken agreement, Sholeh and the Titan both sat down.

"Last name?"

"Hadeva. Or Bell. Make of it what you will. But none, really."

"You're a goddess now."

"Yeah. Wildfire and civilization, apparently. So…" Sholeh didn't know what to say. Here was the namesake she'd alternately despised and adored, but at all times unknowingly tried to live up to. "Hercules really did set you free?"

"Yes. He wasn't the most intelligent guy, but he sure was strong." Prometheus spoke slowly, as if he was internally debating the choice of each word.

"Oh… I don't _feel _like a goddess," she blurted out suddenly.

"Well," he began, staring at the ground, "it is my belief that divinity is more a… loose concept, rather than an actual state of being, you know. Deathlessness can't exist in the natural world. We are the embodiment of an idea, something born in men's minds. It's not quite an ideal, because, as you know firsthand, mortality is very dear. Make of it what you will."

Sholeh smiled, but tiny golden specks were already swirling around her, enclosing her in a vortex. She didn't want to leave, but if it meant that she could get back to Camp Half Blood, then the gods' interference was welcome. "Thank you for stealing the fire!" she called out, cupping her hands, trying to be louder than even the deafening mist, but she didn't think that Prometheus had heard her.

* * *

"Percy, have you seen her?" Leo asked, panic creeping into his voice. Sholeh had been gone for three hours. And the son of Apollo was beginning to fear the worst- that Hades had found her and taken his daughter back.

"Who?" Percy asked distractedly. He was Iris Messaging his mom, who was holding up a plate of blue cookies, if Leo wasn't mistaken.

"Sholeh!" Leo called back angrily before adding in a kinder tone, "Hi, Ms. Jackson. Why are those cookies blue?"

"Jackson family tradition," Sally Jackson replied pleasantly. A simple white wedding dress hung in the background; she was getting married to Paul Blofis in two weeks. Percy's mother had refused to get married until the Titan War was over, and she knew that Percy was safe (from Kronos, at least.)

"Ah, I see," Leo said. "Have you seen Sholeh, Percy?"

"I'm right here!" Sholeh's voice rang out from behind him. Leo spun around to see the girl standing not ten feet away, looking different in some way. He couldn't place it. She didn't look any different. Same mouth tugged into a half-smile, same messy hair, same unfashionably pale skin. But she seemed… lighter. More carefree.

Sholeh approached Leo, her confidence fading. What if he didn't want to be a god? What if he didn't want to live forever with her? But first, she had to know if it was true. "Give me your hand," she commanded. He did so automatically, without thinking.

She pulled out Prometheus' dagger. It still shone unnaturally from Damien's liquid light, and his blue-black blood stained the ruby. Before she could stop herself, Sholeh ran the sharp blade across Leo's palm. He gasped from the pain and recoiled, but stared at Sholeh. There was no accusation there, no fear. Just confusion. Percy was yelling at her, "What the Hades was that for?"

"I'm sorry, but I just needed to," she explained hastily, before grabbing Leo's hand once more, pulling it away from his chest. The blood was golden, ichor surging from the wound. Their eyes met, with an unspoken truth passing between them. Sholeh used the dagger to slice open her own hand, moving quickly before her instincts of self-preservation kicked in properly. And then ichor was streaming from her shallow cut, spilling onto the ground, onto Leo's sneakers, tracing the lines of her palm and staining them gold. It was proof, undeniable and unbiased proof.

"Is this what you want, Leo?" Sholeh whispered to the boy, her voice low. The air was static, charged with a sparkling electricity. All the motions and emotions of her life were slowly adding up, falling together, connecting.

"Is that even a question?" Leo grinned at her, and she beamed back.

* * *

woot woot! for those who've forgotten, sholeh's foster dad was unfaithful to her foster mom, but abigail bell didn't leave him for a long time.

the title has nothing to do with anything... i just thought it sounded cool :P

did y'all like the ending? hopefully i'll post the epilogue soon.

oh, and there's going to be another story!!! i'll post details on the epilogue...


	19. For the Thrill of the Fall

blah, okay, so this is a day late. sorry, I know I promised, but it was getting late and I had homework, and deadlines just don't make me very productive... anywho, here's the epilogue!!! Oh, music for it is _My Beautiful Rescue _by This Providence, _The First Day of My Life_ by Bright Eyes, and _Dig_ by Incubus (the latter I've always thought of as the Sheo theme song, in a way.)

* * *

_Eleven Years Later_

Sholeh sighed impatiently, glancing at the old stove's digital clock. Four sixteen already. No, make that four seventeen. Where were they?

She turned back to the mail. Junk mail, junk mail, electric bill, phone bill, junk mail, belated Christmas card from someone she didn't know, and- ooh- Netflix. What was it this week? She eagerly attacked the red envelope. "Dammit, I don't see why these things are so hard to open," she said out loud, frustrated by the elusive DVD. The red paper was torn into a hundred pieces, but the disc was still inside. She set upon it again, and finally triumphed. "Ha! Oh, it's… Raiders of the Lost Ark. Again? Leon," she smiled, thinking of her youngest son's obsession with anything and everything Indiana Jones.

Speaking of which, where the Hades was her family? She glanced at the clock again. Four twenty four. Leo picked up the boys from preschool at three. School ended at three thirty for Zoë. So where, in Hercules' name, were they? Sholeh frantically hoped that Leo had indulged the kids (yet again) and taken them to the park.

The goddess got up, finding that she needed something to do. The dishes lay unwashed in the sink. The entire house was a mess. Was she going to clean it up? Sholeh considered doing so for a moment, then thought better of it. It would only get messy again, a fact that Sholeh had discovered happened in the blink of an eye when you had three children, aged three, four, and seven.

Sholeh crossed the tiny kitchen, dodging stacks of sheet music and baskets full of fruit. She loved her house. Absolutely adored all of it- the shingles falling off the roof, miniscule floor space, cracked furniture covered with paint, three bedrooms each the size of most people's closets. The neighbors hated it for the messy yard and ancient construction (apparently it brought down the prices of their homes), but she couldn't care less.

Sholeh grabbed the back door handle, staring thoughtfully at the door Leo had painted himself. Not with a calm eggshell white paint, or a mellow brown. The doors of their house were all covered with vibrant paintings of aristocrats riding horses, fires burning down a forest, an orchestra, the Coliseum, a boy and a girl standing among strawberries. They were all in vivid colors that simply screamed life. Yet another reason she loved her house.

Sholeh turned the handle before a triumphant scream met her ears. That was Zoë, no doubt about it. She was in a loud stage.

"We're HOOOOOME!"

"Zoë Phaedra, _please_ don't do that anymore," Leo begged her wearily. Sholeh knew that she had probably been screaming the whole way home- Leo never used the girl's middle name unless he was really tired of something. "Y'know, I bet they could hear you in China."

"Daddy, you always say that," she retorted, bouncing into the kitchen to hug her mother with the bubbly energy only a seven-year-old can muster.

"That's because they can always hear you there," her father answered, setting Leon (the three-year-old) down and shooing him in the direction of his brother. "You and Azrael go work on your project now."

"What's the project?" Sholeh asked, kissing Leo swiftly on the cheek.

"They have to make an invention that's useful in everyday life," Leo replied, absently ruffling Zoë's hair as she demanded strawberry ice cream. He seemed a little distracted to Sholeh, and his hand kept darting back to something in his back pocket.

"They're just in preschool," Sholeh said, taken aback.

"That's what I said. You know what this is? It's a parent project."

"Parent project?"

"Yeah. This isn't for the kids. This is for the teachers to see how much the parents know. And the kid with the parent who can spend the most money and time on the project gets the best grade."

"Do they even get grades in preschool?" Sholeh asked, amused by Leo's weary sarcasm.

"It doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing," he nodded and waved his hand as if giving a sermon. Sholeh chuckled quietly to herself. "Zoë, if you aren't quiet, you can't go over to the di Angelo's house today. And we don't have any strawberry ice cream." The girl immediately quieted down, contenting herself to play with the strap of her favorite red patent leather shoes. Sholeh was always amazed by how easily Leo corrected the kids. _A natural parent, unlike me_, she thought. For the first three years of Zoë's life, she'd been out of her mind, constantly worrying about germs, proper nutrition, and the most minor injuries.

"How was work?" Sholeh asked him. He looked up, staring curiously into the goddess' eyes.

"Work?" he seemed to have forgotten the meaning of the word, and fumbled with the object in his pocket even more. "Oh, right. You are _not _going to believe what they tried to make me do." He reached into his other pocket to pull out a tape. "_This _is the crap they tried to make me sing. Just listen." He jammed the cassette into their outdated radio.

Sholeh and Leo weren't living the normal life for a goddess and her immortal consort. They didn't live on Mount Olympus, but in a pleasant suburb, not far from the di Angelo's and plenty of public schools. They changed their appearances slightly enough that it appeared that they were aging, albeit gracefully. The only sent their three children, Zoë Phaedra, Azrael Damien, and Leonidas Nicodemus to Camp Half Blood in the summer. Sholeh worked at a stockbroker's office, which was mind-numbingly boring, but it was welcome after the chaos of her teenage years, and it had decent pay.

Leo worked odd jobs in the music industry. He really was trying to become a composer, but the demand for new orchestral scores had declined rapidly, so he took jobs in cover bands, playing Bat Mitzvahs, weddings, as a backup singer, anything. Leo liked to joke that he was a "starving artist." Sholeh liked to reply that she bought way too much food for him to starve. Today he'd been hired to sing the jingle for a local carpentry business.

"_Because your house is our house, we'll renovate it in a jiffy,_" played out from the radio's cracked speakers. Sholeh raised an eyebrow, staring at Leo. He stared back at her, his wide eyes suggesting, 'This gives music a bad name.'

"_Ceramic deeeesign_," the jingle finished, ending on a strange chord that Sholeh previously hadn't thought existed.

"You know what? I've heard that before," Sholeh began thoughtfully, a smile playing across her lips. "That's the sound the prisoners in Tartarus make when they're being tortured."

"Thank you!" Leo exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "That's what I told the recording guys. Well, not those exact words obviously, since they would've thought I was crazy, but that was the general gist of it." His blond hair flopped across his face, and Sholeh laughed at the mirth sparkling in his eyes. "Obviously I couldn't sing something like this—"

Sholeh sighed, a little exasperated. Money was the only thing they ever fought over. To Leo, money was like water. It trickled out of his fingers before he even realized it was gone. They didn't fight often, but when they did, it was always over this bill, that expense. Sholeh completely lost it when that happened. They would end up screaming at each other, and more often than not, things ended up on fire. Leo would storm out of the house and go walking for hours. They didn't fight nearly as much as other couples, but when they did, it could wake the whole neighborhood. Unlike Percy and Annabeth, who disagreed over minor things all the time and got annoyed with each other, but their arguments never reached the full-blown wrath of Sholeh and Leo's.

He sensed her disappointment and, looking worried, replied, "Oh jeez, I'm sorry, Sholeh, I wasn't thinking… I should've just buckled down and sang it, shouldn't I?"

"It's fine. Really. I mean, what about the principle of the thing?"

Leo laughed raucously at this, until he was interrupted by the sudden crackling of flames and a distraught squeal. Leon hurtled into the room with singed eyebrows, holding a plastic Indiana Jones toy that was also on fire and steadily melting. "AZ DID IT AGAIN!" he screamed, and Sholeh immediately grabbed the toy from his hand, putting out the fire with a thought. She couldn't help but inwardly laugh at the boy's nickname for his brother; Azrael was too hard for him to pronounce, so he had somehow begun calling him 'Az', which Sholeh thought sounded like the Wizard of Oz's evil twin.

_But it's only to be expected when you name your children things like 'Azrael,' 'Leonidas,' and 'Phaedra,' _she thought, sighing. Zoë was the lucky one, since her first name, at least, was normal. Her middle name, not so much. But Leo had insisted on naming her 'Phaedra,' which meant 'bright' or 'shining,' because it was just so perfect for their blond, laughing girl. Azrael Damien was the least fortunate when it came to names, but it had partially been an attempt to appease Sholeh's father. Sholeh and Leo had hoped that naming their first son after an angel of death would keep Hades from taking their children out of spite. She wasn't taking any chances with her children. And there was of course little Leonidas Nicodemus, called Leon for short, so they wouldn't confuse him with Leo, although the two of them couldn't be more different. Leon was small and skinny, even for his age, with Sholeh's pale skin and black hair. He was shy, quiet, soft-spoken, and constantly followed his brother around. Now that Azrael was just discovering that he could make things spontaneously combust, it was becoming dangerous for Leon to tag along like this.

"Look," the youngest boy whimpered, "Indy's face is all melted."

"Azrael!" Leo called, while Sholeh comforted the crying child.

"Shhh, Leon, it's going to be alright," she said softly, bending down to brush away his tears. "Daddy can fix it." Sholeh looked down at Indiana Jones's body, mangled and melted past all recognition. Okay, so that was a lie. Even if the toy hadn't been completely destroyed, Leo couldn't fix anything. Literally. "Well actually, we'll get you a new one," she corrected.

"Azrael, you can't just go around breaking other people's toys," Leo scolded.

"It's not _my_ fault," Azrael complained, scuffing his shoe on the ground. His curly black hair was still burning, and Sholeh snuffed out that flame as well. "It wasn't on purpose."

"We know, but you have to try to control it," his mother said, knowing full well there wasn't really anything they could do. Hades, she hadn't even been able to control fire completely at sixteen.

"Exactly. Do you know what'll happen if you burn other people's stuff?" Leo asked him. Azrael stared mutinously at his father. "People won't want to play with you."

"I don't care," the five-year-old proclaimed arrogantly. "I don't want to play with them!"

"You'll be very lonely," Sholeh replied curtly.

"You're a tyrant," Azrael declared, and stomped off. Sholeh sighed. Tyrant was his favorite word at the moment, and everyone was a tyrant. Everything really, since only this morning had Azrael declared that his cereal was a tyrant.

Leon followed his brother out of the room, still complaining about his toy. The goddess sighed and sat down, running her hands through her hair, a habit she'd unconsciously picked up from Leo. Leo himself was still standing, fiddling with the light switch, as Sholeh opened up more bills. "What time are we going to the di Angelo's?" she asked him. "And please, love, stop flicking the light switch."

He stopped turning the lights on and off and started toying with the peeling red paint. "Uh, I think we said five thirty. That's twenty minutes from now. How was work?"

"We should leave in ten minutes then. Work was fine. Boring, as usual. The boss is still a jerk." Living with Leo had, initially, taken some getting used to. Still was taking some getting used to. Sharing herself him was everything she wanted, making a life together and having children with him was bliss, but it was just strange seeing him cook, or change a baby's diaper, or open mail like a normal mortal. Even now, on the few occasions that Sholeh made meals, she insisted that Leo not watch her while she did so. It just seemed too strange to have Leo, the one she was prepared to die for watch her complete so mundane a task. He didn't understand why she thought so, and gently teased her that maybe if they got married, it would seem more normal. It was one of the many arguments he used to try and convince her to get married. So far, she hadn't been convinced.

It was fear, really. Sholeh was terrified that, being a goddess, her marriage vows would mean less. Every god in existence broke their vows, and that was what mortals expected of them. Even if she kept hers, going by the simple fact that they were immortal, Sholeh and Leo's marriage, in her mind, would be lacking in some meaning. She'd tried to explain this to Annabeth once, who was happily married to Percy (with fraternal twins, nonetheless) and had failed miserably in making the daughter of Athena understand. But then again, neither Percy nor Annabeth were immortal.

And did they even need to get married? Sholeh didn't think so. Their relationship was stronger than any metal band or shiny rock. It was stronger than Death itself. Lately, those had been Sholeh's primary thoughts. She and Leo lived together, with three children, and would, in all likelihood, be together for eternity. Marriage was simply unnecessary. Slowly, her actual fear of matrimony was fading, to be replaced with a kind of simple practicality.

"Hey, uh, can I talk to you?" Leo asked abruptly, stuttering. Sholeh raised an eyebrow and looked into his anxious, chocolate eyes.

"You are talking to me."

"Oh. Well, I mean, on the porch. Where the kids can't hear." Leo fumbled with the object in his back pants pocket some more, seemingly becoming more uneasy with every passing moment Sholeh didn't answer. Suddenly, a tiny velvet box fell out of Leo's pocket, bouncing on the floor before disappearing under the stove. Both Sholeh and Leo followed the box's movement with their eyes, and once it was out of sight, stared blankly at each other. They both lunged at the same time, diving under the table to reach the oven. Leo ended up knocking over a basket of apples and got one leg entangled in the chair. When Sholeh's head stopped throbbing from hitting it on the table, she discovered that half her body was stuck under Leo's, his knee resting on her hips. They both started laughing uncontrollably, and hoping to catch Leo off guard, Sholeh lunged for the box again. He caught her hand and pulled her into an ardent kiss, sneakily grabbing the velvet container at the same time.

"Shit, that wasn't how it played out in my mind," Leo muttered, offering her the elusive box. "See, we were supposed to be in the back yard, y'know, by the butterfly bushes you like. And then I was supposed to go down on one knee, and I had this whole speech… Oh, Hades, I'll improvise. I can't even remember the damned speech anymore. And then, y'know, I pictured you really happy, and definitely not crying, not even tears of joy, because, you know, it freaks me out a little when you cry, because I don't know what to do—" _Oh gods, please let her say yes_.

"Leo, what's this?" Her heart was pounding, and her legs were trembling, before she could even guess what this was. Sholeh pulled herself out from under him, and they both sat cross-legged under the old wooden table.

"Well, its kind of… a proposal," Leo replied with a nervous smile. He opened the box to reveal a silver ring with a modest diamond. It was simple. The logo on the box read the name of a local, generally unknown jeweler. Leo's hands were covered in paint, and it smudged the velvet box a little. They were sitting under a table, for crying out loud, she told herself. And yet, Sholeh couldn't keep from gasping. It was a reflex, like blinking. She couldn't stop herself, and she knew that she was blushing for no good reason. And suddenly, Sholeh felt that she was fifteen again, instead of twenty-seven, and that Leo, a mysterious, good-looking boy, was smiling at her for the first time.

"And I just… Sholeh, I want to get married. I want to get married," he repeated slowly. Leo was praying, genuinely praying: _Please say yes._ She was looking at him with most bewildering smile, like she was remembering every moment of the past eleven years. "And I want to be your husband for as long as I'm alive. Which is, y'know, forever. Which is a really, really, _really_ long time. And, and look, I got you a ring and everything," he ended quietly. _Please say yes_. _  
_

She replied slowly. "That was some pretty good improvising." A tiny, fervent smile was creeping onto her lips. And Leo got the feeling she was going to say yes.

* * *

aw! did you all like it? questions? comments?

Oh, and just because a bunch of people asked about the Percabeth ending, I'll explain what I had in mind, since I didn't really do that in the chappie. Basically, Percy was once more offered godhood, but Annabeth was not. He didn't tell her about it the second time, and also turned the gods down secretly. So now they are living in Montauk with their two fraternal twin children, Chase and Minerva, who are Leon's age. Is that 'kay with all of you? It's happy, right? I just didn't want to make EVERYONE gods....

mmkay, my dears, the time has come for me to announce the details of the SEQUEL'S SEQUEL. oh yes, get ready.

Alrighty, its called _Unchained Melody_ and will be co-authored by **sistergrimm2** and moi, **music5692**.

Its going to follow the exploits and adventures of the next generation, specifically the three Sheo kids, the two Percabeth twins, plus Nico's daughter! Oh, and a mortal kid named Joshua and a jerk son of the Big Three named Astor. Hmm... what else can I say? Basically, if you like fast-paced action, snappy dialogue, fun characters, a dash of romance and descriptive... description, read it! Especially since I am posting the very first chapter in a wee bit (a.k.a tonight.)


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